Let Me Sing A Song For You
by CheeseSwiss
Summary: Katherine roams the streets of Paris in 1920. Elena works in a theatre, Stefan is an aristocratic vampire and Damon is a musician who was turned dark by Katherine. And Klaus is never far away...
1. PROLOGUE

**This is my first story on Fanfiction even thought I've wanted to post one for a very long time now. So my first one will be this twist on Vampire Diaries, with different character traits and a different setting. Even if it turns out that it sucks - I am proud. Everyone should be of their stories. So here is mine:**

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**PROLOGUE:**

(Disclaimer: I own none of the characters)

It was snowing. A thick flurry, one couldn't see anything. The whole city of Paris looked like dipped in frozen yoghurt, only the colorful cars, the colorful people disrupted this peaceful sight.

Katherine calmly walked up one of the main streets, pompous in a bright green coat, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders. Pale, beautiful. She would have made a stunning corpse, but unfortunately she was alive. Wicked, evil. But nobody knew that. The men bowed to her, took of their hats. The women partly glared enviously at her, partly looked at her fascinated. She smiled. She would have been perfection incarnated, had she not been so dark.

The main streets forked into narrower, less known alleys. They were still as picturesque as streets in this time, 1920, could be. She bitterly remembered the time of the revolution, all the horror and the pain thick in the air. Although – there had been plenty of blood back then. Now, she had to be more elusive. It became harder and harder to be a vampire. But she loved every single second of it anyway.

The filthy beggars at the alley corners stared at her as if they'd seen an angel. Katherine didn't even glance at them. They were good for nothing. Even their blood was tainted with alcohol and decay. She had _class_. As good and beautiful as she was, she knew that simple blood wasn't worth her. That was why she spent most of her time playing games with her prey. It thickened the blood.

Finally she came to the place she had been looking for. The reason she had wandered in to these stinking quarters of the grand Paris. She had followed the young man here the night earlier, but had been interrupted by a carriage. When the carriage had driven away, the young man had been gone. But now.. Katherine had smelled his blood, and the mere memory made her throat burn. She needed to kill this boy, even if he was practically a nobody, a poor musician receiving pennies for his exquisite music at dinner parties, feasts. She even vaguely remembered his name, a rare occasion, _Damon Salvatore. _

With ease she beat open the locked door and strode in. The hallway was filthy and empty and messy, but the vague scent of vanilla wafting from Damon upstairs made her forget it. She hungered so much for his blood that she went even blind for her surroundings.

In a small bed room/living room on the upper floor, young Damon sat by a beaten-looking piano and produced a couple of tones, half-heartedly. She neared him noiselessly. Beneath his dark hair she sighted his throat. The vein pulsed.

He seemed to have noticed her presence because suddenly he twisted round and nearly fell out of his chair. She softened. He really was handsome, and those eyes.. her fangs wanted to come out.

"Who are you?" His voice was anxious, uncertain. Katherine saw that he didn't know whether to feel fascination or anger at the fact that she had broken into his home. "What do you want?"

She smiled and there was a click as her fangs popped out – she couldn't control it anymore. She wanted him more than she had wanted anyone else for quite some time. "You."

Before he could react, run away, resist, she was on him and they both thudded into the dusty floor. He fell wrong, scratched his neck on a nail sticking out. The blood ran out, it smelled strongly of vanilla and peppermint and music. His intoxicating eyes widened as she leant over him, put her lips to his throat, and sucked in all that warm, good blood.

Firework. She loved it. There was nothing that could have made her stop. She was in a scarlet world. Then Damon's heartbeat grew fainter and fainter. For some reason, that made her stop. She rose from his limp body. He was not yet dead, but he was only barely alive. His breaths came fragile, butterflies with wings of glass.

She made a spontaneous decision and bit her wrist open. Spat out her own blood and then brought the wrist to Damon's lips. They were flecked scarlet. She poured as much as in as she cared for, then she leant over Damon's throat, sucked again, killed him this time. Until his heart stopped beating.

When she was finished, she stood up, wiped her mouth on her sleeve and stepped over the poor musician who lay bleeding on the dust. Without a backward glance she left the building, let herself be swept in the frosty wind again. It hadn't stopped snowing.

Back in the house, the musician awoke.

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**I hope you fanfiction-reading guys like it. You might as well love it or hate it, that's up to you. Comments, praise as well as criticism, are welcome. **

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	2. MADAME BUTTERFLY

**First of all, let me thank Lorazepam and elvalove for commenting: you are lovely! Here comes the first actual chapter. And once again, for all the other authors out there: Never Give Up!****

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**(Disclaimer: I own none of the characters)

**1. MADAME BUTTERFLY**

_Row, row, row your boat_

_Gently down the stream_

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily_

_Life is but a dream_

Theatre de Monroe. In the rain, it was a desolate, sad place. But Elena knew how grand it could be, when well illuminated and well visited in the evenings. The posters screamed colors into the grey, images of beautiful women in beautiful dresses with handsome men at their arms. Fairytales. Charming, but they were all lies of what could never be.

Taking a deep breath she entered the building. The foyer was warm, dry and quiet. Scarlet curtains draped the walls, chandeliers hung from the ceiling. She felt like a speck of dirt, unworthy of being in such an expensive place with her old clothes and worn shoes. She was nobody, nothing. The thought made her want to turn back and head right out, but before she could as much as take a step backwards, steps sounded and a set of double doors in front of her opened. Elena froze.

A young man appeared. He was the handsomest Elena had ever seen. Dark brown hair, green eyes, skin pale. She didn't know what to do. How to react. For some reason her arms were covered in goose-bumps, but that might have been from the rain outside. There was something wrong about the young man, something she couldn't put her finger on.

She cleared her throat, and tried to find her words: "I was looking for a.. job.. I –" But further than that she didn't get.

The air seemed to shake and then suddenly the young man was before her, leaning over her. He gripped her wrists roughly, squeezed them so hard until Elena thought they would shatter. With a sinking feeling in her stomach she saw the rage in the man's face. The hatred.

"How dare you come here! I thought I made it clear enough: _stay away_!"

Elena tried to tug herself free but he was scarily strong. She no longer was fascinated by him, just horrified. Who was this? What did he want from her? And first and foremost, _what had she done _to make him hate her so much. How was one able to feel such anger towards a stranger?

"What are you talking about? _LET ME GO!_ Who ever you think I am, I'm not!" she hissed back. And as she once again looked at the young man, she saw his expression shift. The fury faded away. But he had gone even paler and his eyes were still dark. He mumbled something, but Elena was too upset to distinguish the words.

"Who are you then?" he asked rudely, scrutinizing her with his gaze from toe to head. She hated the way he grimaced in dislike. She might be poor, but at least she didn't attack strangers like he did. It was very ungentlemanly. Rude.

"I've come to work here," she snapped, rubbing her aching wrists. "As a cleaner; I saw your advertisement. Do you still need me?"

The man looked at her coldly. "Yes. Follow me."

He started walking towards the double doors. She hesitated, then follows. Times were desperate, she really needed all the money she could get to take care of herself and her little brother Jeremy. Even if it meant working under someone like _that_, she thought.

"My name is Stefan Salvatore, I am the director of this theatre." He cast another dark look at Elena and then opened the double doors. "We've just had a matinee performance of Madame Butterfly. I must say, the guest have left quite a mess." He shoved her into the auditorium. "As is obvious, you will start working immediately." Then he slammed the doors behind her.

She looked around. There were rows and rows of seats and then a great scene with golden curtains. Stefan Salvatore had been right. There was rubbish everywhere. Strips of paper, toffee wrappers, leaflets and of course program menus.

Beside the door, against the wall, leant a broom and a bucket with water. She sighed. There was nothing else to do but set to work. She thought of Jeremy. That was help enough.

She started with the broom and dusted the floor.

That was when she saw him.

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**I sincerely hope this chapter is good, even if it ended with a cliffhanger. As before, comments are warmly welcome, whether praise or critism. Clay needs to be shaped with both soft and hard hands to form a statue. **

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	3. ALTER EGO

**Here is the third chapter. Enjoy:

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(Disclaimer: I own none of the characters)**

He looked like Stefan Salvatore, but he was darker, even more handsome. He was on the scene, sitting by the grand piano, playing Beethoven's Klaviersonate nr.8 with the grace of a musician. As he played, his eyes were focused on the keys. Elena wanted them to look at her. She forgot her work and was completely absorbed by the music, by him. But he paid no notice to her, he continued to play. There was something haunted about him, she heard it in the music. Something dark.

Suddenly he looked up and broke off in mid-play. They stared at each other, then he scowled, slammed the lid over the keys and was gone in a minute. There was a rustle as music sheets fell to the floor. Again, she was taken aback. What was it with all the people here? Did they have to be so cranky? Once more, what _had she done_?

With the musician gone there was nothing more to distract her from working. She swept the floors, picked up all the rubbish, mopped the scene until it was shining. Thinking it was enough she took the broom and bucket back to the side of the door, and went back into the foyer. On the banner of the stairs leading up, she found an envelope on which stood: _Elena Gilbert_. Inside was her pay, not little either. She could get a treat for her and Jeremy and medicine which was so awfully needed. With that in mind, she forgot the incidents with Stefan and the musician and walked a little happily down the main street of Paris.

As she was heading home, walking through the less attractive quarters of Paris, she saw someone that made her stop. It was a woman in a bright green coat with curly dark hair. She was heading the opposite direction of Elena but when Elena stopped, she did too. Her stomach turned. The woman reminded her of someone, she was in a way so familiar. She wondered if she should go ask if she was lost or something, but then the woman suddenly disappeared. Elena was alone in the alley. Unable to rid herself of the unease, she went home, a little more slowly this time.

At home she found Jeremy in his bed in which he lay all day. He looked even worse than he had done this morning. His skin was waxen, his eyes dark. But he still smiled faintly at her as she sat down beside him. She gave him the pills he needed to take, and then they had a little feast on the bedside table. Fresh bread, peaches, onion soup, a little meat and a tiny bottle of wine. They ate and drank and laughed and forgot about all their problems for a moments.

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"What is she doing here?"

Stefan looked up, saw his brother storm into his office, and sighed. The last person he wanted to see right now. After being turned into a vampire, he had hoped he'd never have to see Damon again. But fate was a fickle bitch, or so was Katherine.

"That was not who you think it was," Stefan said, knowing his brother had seen Elena. "Her name is Elena Gilbert, she is a cleaner. I thought it was Katherine too, but I saw in her eyes that she wasn't. Elena's eyes aren't as cruel."

"But that's impossible," Damon growled. "How can she _not _be Katherine? They look exactly alike..I don't understand." He glared at Stefan as if it was his fault.

"I don't understand it either," Stefan said calmly. "But the one you saw is not _her_. Just know that. I'll find out what is going on.." He frowned. "There's a possibility she could be a doppelganger.."

Damon looked coldly at Stefan. "Whatever," he hissed and stormed right out of the office again. Stefan sighed once more. There was so much anger in his brother nowadays, and hatred. Towards everyone and everything. Stefan wondered quietly whether it was not best just to stake him and bring him out of his misery. Damon clearly didn't want to be a vampire. Just a musician.

He finished his work, then stood up and drew the curtains before the windows, locked the doors. Then he opened the hatch under the carpet and climbed inside. The warm, dry air of his office turned cold and damp. He landed on a cold stone floor and walked through a dark, badly illuminated tunnel. Rats scooted past his feet, he didn't care.

Finally he had stopped playing. Every moment he was Stefan Salvatore, he was an actor. He was very well aware that he was watched, and he was determined to not let the observer find anything susceptive.

At the end of the tunnel, she waited for him. Perfect, radiant in a bright green coat. She smiled to him, showed her brilliant teeth. He smiled back.

"Excellent," Katherine said. "Now let's go out and kill.

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**Stefan the dark boy, not something you'd expect. I guess this is a cliffhanger too. As always: leave a comment or two, praise or criticism. Everything is welcome. And if you have any special requests for the story you can also put them to view. **

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss**


	4. INCEPTION OF EVIL

**I wrote this chapter along with the last one but had to go out before I could update the story. I'm sorry. But here it is now at least, the forth chapter. Read, enjoy, comment. The kind that already have commented are Lorazepam, elvalove and lina89, you're awsome!**

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They sat on top of Eiffel tower, and Paris was a net of lights in the night underneath them. A sight many photographers would have killed for. Stefan held Katherine's cold hand. They were content. "You have a little blood on your cheek," Stefan said quietly and Katherine wiped away the smear.

What an evening it had been! Stefan still felt the lives of others rush through his bloodstream, their heartbeats still sounded in his ears. He laughed at the thought of his brother avoiding this kind of life – it was ecstatic! But the foolish Damon didn't see that, he didn't see the thrill of the hunt or the charm of drinking blood, he only saw the immorality of the act. The first sign of weakness.

"He hasn't really drunk any blood from anyone yet," he told Katherine as they sat there admiring nocturnal Paris. "I mean, I gave him bottled human blood to complete the transformation, but he hasn't bitten anybody yet." At that, Katherine threw back her head and laughed. "Coward! But, Stefan, you know we have to do something against that, right?" It sounded almost as if she wanted to _help _Damon, even though Stefan knew she didn't bother.

He nodded thoughtfully. Indeed did he have to do something about it, or he'd be annoyed to death by cranky Damon. But force him to drink? Wasn't that a little extreme? And Damon would naturally put up a fight. Of course he'd have no chance against Stefan and Katherine, they'd been vampires longer, but still. Killing resisting victims was one thing, but his own brother? Then he realized he was thinking morally, and that made him scowl. Becoming a vampire and killing people also meant that putting humanity behind. Putting compassion and love behind. In his world, Damon could no longer be a brother. Everything, every_one _had to be seen in different eyes. Katherine managed to do that successfully.

They fell into a moment of quiet, until Katherine yawned and said: "All right, let's get down again." She rubbed her throat. "I think I have room for a little more." She squeezed his hand and nodded. He nodded back. And they jumped.

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Elena was woken up at midnight by a horrible cough coming from Jeremy's corner in the room. She didn't hesitate, but flew up from her bed and ran to Jeremy's side. He was awake, bent over, and he coughed. Endlessly. It was like someone stabbed her in the heart. She rubbed his back, then hurried to the kitchen corner where she immediately cooked milk with honey and crushed medicine into it. She wished she had had enough money to go to a hospital, but wishes didn't help Jeremy, so she stopped thinking about it.

She gave Jeremy the milk but it didn't help. Jeremy continued to cough as if he wanted to cough up his lungs. What probably was happening anyway. She gave him a cloth and stared in horror as the white was stained with red. The situation was really dire. She really, really needed a doctor. _Now._ To stop the coughing for a while, she gave Jeremy a sleeping pill and waited until he had fallen unconscious. Then she grabbed her coat and rushed out. It was raining again – October weather, and she swept her coat tighter around her body as she ran through the alleys, along the streets.

Before a door to a dirty grey house she stopped. There was a golden plate with the name: _Physician Dr. Alaric Saltzman_. He seemed to be an expensive doctor, but she went inside anyway as the door seemed to be open, at least to get out from the cold and wet outside. Despite being midnight, the lights were on in the hallway and she pressed the button on the wall.

A young blonde woman in Elena's age appeared in a nurse apron and with a kind smile on her lips. "Good evening, miss. My name is Caroline Forbes, I am 's assistant, how can we help you?"

"My brother, Jeremy.. he's coughing up blood, he's really bad..I can't pay you right now, I'll pay you later.." She couldn't hide the desperation in her voice.

Caroline Forbes looked at her with a concerned expression. "Don't you worry about that now. One moment, please, I'll go get Dr. Saltzman." And she disappeared into a door, leaving Elena by the door, feeling cold and worried. What if Jeremy didn't make it? What if he died in his sleep? She forced herself not to think about.

Soon enough Caroline appeared again with the doctor . He was handsome to be in his early thirties with dark blonde hair and an unshaved chin. He already had his robe on and a doctor's equipment bag in his hands. "Let's go," he said and they went out again. Elena led the way. All the way up to her home, she was nervous, twisting her hands, her eyes flooding with tears. Caroline squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry, is an excellent physician; he'll help your brother." Elena wished she could be as sure.

Inside the house, Jeremy had woken up again despite the sleeping pill and coughed and coughed. Every cough ripped Elena's flesh. She wanted to put her hands over her ears and scream, but that would have been childish. It was a time to be valiant.

Dr. Saltzman immediately busied himself with Jeremy and Caroline helped, while Elena sat in the hallway with a blanket wound tight around her body. She was so upset she didn't even feel ashamed of her home in front of the doctor and the nurse.

After what seemed an eternity Caroline came to her in the hallway, and Elena's heart fell as she saw the nurse's expression. "What is it," she demanded.

Caroline looked down in sorrow. "Your brother's condition is critical. In a matter of days, he's going to die."

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**Poor Jeremy. Not even Saltzman can save him. Or.., and what exactly do Katherine and Stefan have in store for Damon?**

**Another chapter of Let Me Sing A Song For You coming soon, hopefully ;) **

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss**


	5. THE DARK NIGHT

**I am filled with gratitude for those who comment and follow this story. It's so sweet, it gives me a toothache. **

**Here is the fifth chapter of Let Me Sing A Song For You. Lean back and enjoy!**

**THE DARK NIGHT:**

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**(I own none of the characters)**

"Elena," said a soft voice. She looked up and saw Dr. Saltzman sit down next to her. Caroline left the hallway to go to Jeremy.

Her fingers were shaking, there was a sinking sensation in her stomach. Everything felt surreal. Jeremy couldn't die, he just couldn't. Whom would she then have in this wicked, dark world?

No one.

"Is there really nothing that can help him?" Elena asked. Her voice sounded so lost and lonely in the half-dark of the hallway.

"You must understand, Miss. Gilbert, that your brother suffers from tuberculosis. It's not just some flu, it's a life-threatening disease. A better environment, a _cleaner _environment would perhaps make him better, but then he'd haft to be admitted to a hospital, and good hospitals are over-the-top expensive these days. Besides, most hospitals are full nowadays, Jeremy isn't the only sick one, and the bacteria wouldn't be so isolated there either. He'd die there as well."

Elena struggled to breathe through the knot in her lungs. "_But_," Dr. Saltzman continued. "I might have one last resort. Although it might not to be the best."

She immediately sat up straighter, clarity spearing her mind like a ray of sun. "Anything," she said without hesitation. "Anything that'll help my brother."

"Ah, but it's not that easy." Dr. Saltzman reached into his pocket and brought out a small vial filled with a dark red substance. "This, Miss. Gilbert, is naturally blood. But it isn't ordinary blood. My wife, Isobel, she gave it to me before she disappeared. Said it has healing powers. So I tried it on a wounded dog – and it helped. The dog had nasty bites on it's throat and the blood just sealed them. I have reason to believe that this might also help Jeremy." As Elena began to smile, he interrupted her: "_But, _it might have a bad effect on Jeremy, too. It might kill him, or do nothing. This blood – from whomever, from _whatever _it came from, might just be meant for animals. Are you sure you want to risk it?"

"Of course," Elena said with granite determination. "If there's even a teeny-tiny possibility that it will help my brother, I'll take the chance. Always."

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As Stefan neared the scene, he saw Damon play the piano. It was a Steinway, probably worth more than the later Salvatore home. And Damon probably loved it more than he had his own home, which had been all but merry.

Suddenly it became to much for Stefan, he couldn't listen to any more of Damon's music. It awakened things in him he just wanted to forget. He stormed to the piano and slammed the lid over the keys, narrowly missing Damon's fingers. A loud snap echoed in the empty auditorium.

Damon nearly flew off the chair. "What's wrong with you?" he hissed, glaring at Stefan.

Stefan stared back coldly. "No, Damon. What's wrong with _you_? When can you finally accept that you're not a musician anymore, not a petty human, but a _vampire_!"

Damon stood up. "I don't want to be a murderer like you."

Stefan put back his head and laughed. "You think that is what I am? I am not a murderer at all, Damon. That's a human term, and I am not human. I am better creature, I am _superior_."

His brother looked away. "What has become of you? You disgust me! The ease of how you talk about killing innocent people. The evil of your eyes. You're not Stefan Salvatore anymore, you're a demon. That's sad, because you used to be good."

"That's where you're wrong. I was always like this. Don't you understand? Becoming a monster doesn't make you one inside. You make that choice yourself. And don't pretend you're any different – we're brothers, remember?"

There was something sharp and pained in Damon's eyes and in his voice. "I have no brother."

Then, in a whirlwind, he was gone.

Stefan stood alone on the scene, cracking his knuckles and grinding his teeth. _I have no brother._ He'd have to do something about this. Fast.

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Jeremy lay very still in his bed, his face was pale and his chest barely heaved. Elena wound her arms tight around her body. He looked as if he already was dead.

Dr. Saltzman leant over the quiet boy and tipped the vial over into Jeremy's mouth. The blood stained his lips red. It looked horrifying.

Nothing happened. Elena closed her eyes, prayed, cried, whispered, she was beyond herself. _Please, please, help him. He cannot die!_ _Let me then die, instead of him_. After four years of sickness, of poverty and pain, things couldn't end like this. But this wasn't a fairytale. Anything could happen. And mostly, the bad did.

She had never been so scared in her life before. She was dangling on the string of life, and the string was on the way of ripping apart. There were only a few strands left.

Caroline stood beside her and radiated warmth, but Elena was frozen inside, it was no help.

Then suddenly Jeremy's eyes opened and he inhaled sharply. The relief made her jelly-boned. She threw herself at her brother, embraced him, laughed, cried. A cacophony of joy and gratitude. Jeremy hugged her back, smiled. But he looked a little confused. Then Elena kissed Dr. Saltzman on both cheeks, embraced Caroline. She thought she would burst of happiness.

They all ended up celebrating with wine Elena dug out from the kitchen and pralines Caroline bought in the nearest store. It was beautiful.

As she lay in bed again, and _home _was quiet, early dawn spread it's light across the room. In a few hours she would have to stand up and go to work. But it was OK, she thought, everything's going to be all right from now.

If she only knew how wrong she was.

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**Fortunately, now in the 21st century, tuberculosis can be treated and there are vaccines against it. UNfortunately there are still poor countries where people still can't buy medicine against the disease, because they simply can't afford it, much like Elena and Jeremy's situation. And it was only in 1928 that Alexander Fleming invented Penicillin, a sort of antibiotics that can be used to treated tuberculosis. _I think_. **

**Next update coming soon ;)**

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss**


	6. THE LITTLE MERMAID

**Here you are, the sixth chapter of Let Me Sing A Song For You. I want to begin with once again thanking those who comment follow, you're awesome! Why waste further time.**

**Sit back and enjoy. **

**THE LITTLE MERMAID****

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**(I own none of the characters)**

5 years ago:

There was a storm coming. Stefan felt it in the air, the electricity, the _edge_. Waves crashed against the sides of the boat, sprayed him with saltwater. He rocked violently and nearly fell into the water. With the size of the sailboat, he knew it was as good as impossible to survive such a storm, but he was oddly calm. The thought of dying at sea was for some reason comforting. His father had died this way.

Still, there was no reason to give up immediately. He sailed through the gaining chaos, laughed as the wind ripped at his body. He had never felt so alive before. He just felt a little sorry that he hadn't told Damon about any of this. The boat, the journey had all been a secret. Although, his brother wouldn't have gone with anyway, he was too consumed by playing on his beloved piano since their mother had died.

An enormous wave, seemingly the size of a well-grown fir tree, was rolling towards him. "Bring it on," he said darkly. "I am not afraid."

Too many deaths, too much darkness. Stefan had unbeknownst slipped into Damon's cave of misery, hence his recklessness. But it didn't matter. Stefan felt like it couldn't have been any different. He was meant to stand there, meet _the wave_.

Fate.

But he was wrong. Fate wanted something else. The stormy dark was briefly illuminated by lightning, only thereafter came the growl that made Stefan wince and nearly loose his foothold. He had a feeling the lightning had struck somewhere near him. And on that point, he was 100 % right. There was a crack and the earsplitting noise of wood breaking apart.

He felt the long, thin shadow of the mast fall over him. Then, nothing.

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There was a soft clucking of water. A seagull screeched. Stefan opened his eyes, hardly believing he was alive. Was he dreaming? But the peaceful, blue sky that stretched above him told him otherwise. He heaved himself up on one elbow. Looked around.

The mast was in two and the deck was full of pools of water, but otherwise the boat had escaped the storm rather efficiently. It was almost too good to believe.

His head was pounding. When he touched his forehead, his fingers came back bloody. The mast must have hit him pretty hard. Well, no harm done, at least he was alive.

Slowly, supporting himself on what remained of the mast, he picked himself up. It was day, the sea was calm again. Not too far away, he could see a green strip of land. Maybe an island, who cared? All he wanted to do now was to return home, to change his life, help Damon, help himself. Because surely fate had saved him from destruction for a reason.

He dug out his eyeglass from his soaked bag and looked around. The island seemed uninhabited, there was only a lush forest to be seen. But something else, gently bobbing in the turquoise water caught his attention. It was a woman, her face barely floating above the surface. She didn't move.

There was no time to loose. He dropped the eyeglass, took off his shoes and dived into the water. The cold was like a punch in the lungs.

The woman was not far away, and he reached her in no time. He picked her up in his arms and tried to swim back with merely using his feet to get himself forward. She wasn't heavy or so, but it didn't turn out to be that easy.

At last he managed to come back to the boat, and heaved both himself and the woman on deck. For a moment he just panted, trying to return his breath to his lungs and feeling to his limbs. Then he focused his attention on her.

She was beautiful even if bluishly pale. Her dark curls shone in the sun. Her features were so .. picturesque, like a lady from a post card. He touched her cheek. It was cold but soft, like a peach. "How long have you been dead?" he asked quietly. Because there was no doubt she was. He didn't even have to search for her pulse, he was that sure. Pity, he thought.

She opened her eyes.

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She blinked. Her eyes were brown, innocent-like. He stared at her and took a step backwards.

Impossible.

"I am cold," she said as if nothing had been wrong. "Do you have something warm for me?"

He just nodded and dived into the cabin to bring out a woolen blanket, while there was still bright, white nothing in his head. Perhaps he had indeed taken a serious blow to his head. This wasn't normal.

"Thank you," she smiled as he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. He couldn't stop staring at her. "But that was not what I meant." Her eyes traveled past his eyes, up to his bloody forehead.

She lunged.

And that was his first meet with Katherine Pierce.

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**Our so hated and loved Kat continues to shock and stun. But what exactly did Stefan feel after the first bite?**

**It will all be explained, you just have to be patient.**

**Three words on what happens next chapter (I wanted to write episode): Damon Elena Dagger**

**Until then, **

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss**


	7. THE SOUND OF UNITED HEARTS

**Here it is, our much awaited chapter, I think. At least now there is a possibility Damon and Elena will meet...**

**Anyway, I'd like to thank those who have commented and followed. You are the pillars that support this story. The reason. **

**Without further due, I present you:**

**THE SOUND OF UNITED HEARTS**

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**(I own none of the characters)**

In the morning Elena didn't want to leave new healthy Jeremy to go to work, but they needed the money. Even if Dr. Saltzman had said he didn't want anything for the help, Elena insisted on paying him back, at least a little. After all, the man had saved her little brother. He deserved all the treasures of the world.

Even if the sky had been blue at dawn, when Elena walked through the streets to Theatre de Monroe, it was raining again. The drops soaked her coat and chilled her skin, but she was oblivious to all that. Everything seemed to be shining in a new light today. The world was beautiful. She felt like the sun.

The theatre was as always warm and quiet and empty as she entered. It was better that way; she didn't want any company. Or at least not Stefan Salvatore's or the musician's. In the auditorium, as always, the broom, the mop and the bucket leant against the wall and she started right away. The sooner she was done, the better.

A leaflet on the floor told her there'd been a performance of _Hamlet _last night. That explained why it was so messy. There were papers and wrappers and grit from shoes everywhere. She sighed and picked up a pretty origami tulip. Apparently not the whole audience had been entertained during the play. She hid the tulip in her bag and continued working.

The sound of music made her stop. She looked up and saw the musician who had glared at her sit by the piano and play. The music was haunting, and eerily familiar.

"Clair de Lune," the musician suddenly said, without stopping. "Claude Debussy. He died just three years ago."

Since there was no one else in the auditorium, it was pretty apparent that he was talking to her. She didn't know what to reply. She still felt a little upset over his behavior the first time, but there was also something about it that made her feel flattered. As if he was telling her something important, a secret. Who knew? Maybe it was a secret.

"You think it's pretty." The musician looked up from the keys and their eyes met. There were no words to describe how bright his were, and how _ensnaring_. She felt a little dizzy. It took her a minute to realize that he hadn't said it as a question, but a simple statement. She nodded. "It's beautiful."

"It's _Romantic _music," the musician said bitterly and stopped playing. "It's as if nothing's wrong with the world. As if there is no darkness or evil. It's ignorance – there's even evil in _Clair de Lune_."

Elena wasn't really sure what he was talking about, and it made her feel uncomfortable. His anger wasn't directed at her, but she still felt it, like a cloud of darkness around the musician. She understood now why he had glared at her so the first time they had met. Something was troubling him, obviously.

The musician scowled into the floor for a moment, then suddenly remembered Elena's presence and evened his expression. Swiftly he jumped up from the piano, hopped down from the scene and suddenly he was approaching Elena.

"I am sorry for the way I behaved yesterday," he said softly, still frowning. "I just thought you were someone else. I need glasses – bad vision."

He took her hand and kissed it. "My name is Damon Salvatore."

Elena stiffened. "Brother of Stefan Salvatore?"

But Damon shook his head and mumbled: "No, distant relative." At the mention of Stefan, he had also darkened. Elena couldn't really blame him.

Damon looked around, saw the floor still littered with rubbish. "You need a break. Come with me. I know a place where we can talk in peace and drink a little wine without risking Stefan disturbing us."

Elena wondered if that was such a good idea, but followed anyway. She was strangely exited. Damon clearly wasn't the person she had expected him to be. She suspected that underneath that burning surface of bitterness, anger and hatred beat a warm, kind heart, one could hear that in the music he played. Or, at least, that was what she wanted to believe. She nearly always hoped in the best of people.

Damon led her through the foyer, up the stairs, through a corridor with grandiose oil paintings and chandeliers and into an endlessly long, thin room with costumes lined along the walls. They sat down with their backs against silky Japanese kimonos and Damon brought out a small bottle of Chardonnay from a boot behind him.

"I hope you aren't afraid of germs," the musician said. "As you're going to have to share it with me."

Elena shrugged. She didn't mind. Just sitting here was cozy enough, even if Damon radiated cold rather than warmth. She still felt safe and merrily distant from the world with only the costumes, her and Damon here.

"Cheers to Claude Debussy," Damon said and let her have the first sip. The wine tasted of lemons, freshly sweet and sour, and there was also an odd herbal tang. She smiled and handed the bottle back to Damon.

Damon drank. When he was finished and he looked at Elena, she saw mingled horror and shock in his expression, before he shut his eyes and slumped forward. The Chardonnay fell out of his hands and shattered on the floor.

In the quiet that followed she could hear loud and clearly how her heart beat. A doomsday drum. She felt paralyzed with fear and panic and she couldn't bring herself to look at Damon, who was practically lifeless. Now what?

_Bring help_.

Yes, that seemed like a logic enough answer. It felt wrong to just leave Damon here in the costume room, but she couldn't help him alone. She rushed out, ran through the corridor, and nearly flew off the stairs in her hurry to get down. The foyer was empty. The auditorium was empty. She jumped up on the scene and brought herself to yell: "MR. SALVATORE!"

Nothing. Blood filled her head, she found it hard to think. She noticed a door right beside the grand piano and tried it. It opened into a dark corridor. It was barely that she could see. She had no choice. She really had to find someone before anything serious happened to Damon. Maybe he had been poisoned. For some reason she didn't want him to die, not now that she had first got to know him.

The point of her shoes hit something hard and metallic on the floor . She bent down and tried to distinguish it in the half-dark. It didn't take long for her to realize what it was.  
A dagger. The dark that shone on the blade was probably blood.

It was probably a prop from Hamlet. It must be. She rose and looked down the dark corridor again. Now she didn't want to go through it _at all_. "Mr. Salvatore?" she asked hesitantly. Her words echoed between the walls for a while before they disappeared completely. No answer. There was no one here, so much was clear.

Well, she would then have to take Damon to a doctor herself. She now saw the fault of leaving him alone there, so foolish of her. There was no time to waste; she hurried back, ran as fast as she could back to the costume room.

As soon as she entered the costume room her intuition told her that something was very, very wrong. And she was right. As she walked towards the kimonos, the wine bottle glass crunched under her shoes. Somehow it had got spread across the whole floor.

And Damon was gone.

* * *

**Can't mean anything good, can it? I warn you that next chapter will be rather dark, so prepare yourselves. **

**Oh, and if anyone wonders why Damon, Katherine and Stefan are awake at day and walk outside in sunlight.. etc etc, well that's because Katherine and Stefan have those rings, more about them later. Damon has no ring, and that is one of the reasons he's always in the theatre - only direct sunlight can hurt him, remember? Oh, and as it's October in Paris the weather's kind of nasty too...**

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss**


	8. FULL DARK, NO STARS

**This was probably the hardest chapter for me to write so far. I mean, it took me two days to figure out how I would do it. How it must end. It's not going to be a sunny chapter, but it also a part in Let Me Sing A Song For You that is vital. I'd like to once again thank those who comment and follow, I hope you will follow this story to the end. To listen this chapter with music is by the way a great idea. I'd recommend "This Bitter Earth" by Dinah Washington and Max Richter. **

**(I own none of the characters)**

**FULL DARK, NO STARS**

* * *

The first snow.

Softly it settled on Paris, until every speck of color disappeared under the white. It was night; full dark, no stars.

Damon awoke. His head was searing with blue-hot pain and his throat was even worse. He only remembered fragments of what had happened before the blackout; Elena, the costume room, the poisoned Chardonnay.

Vervain. He cursed himself softly. In those first weeks after becoming a vampire, Stefan had told him about vervain. You can smell it, but Damon hadn't and he had fallen right into the hands of Katherine. Foolish.

Without opening his eyes, he _inhaled _his surroundings. The air was dusty but it also smelt good of something. A rich scent, like cherry. He knew immediately what it was. Blood, human blood. With his throat burning because of the vervain, it felt even more seductive. His teeth ached.

He sat up, opened his eyes. He was in a tomb, he recognized it by it's domed shape and the sarcophagi in a corner. There was a window too, the sky was black outside and the snow flakes were like substitute stars.

On the sarcophagi Katherine sat perched and beside her sat a human girl Damon had never seen before. Katherine wore a blood red dress and a necklace glittered on her chalky neck, as if she had dressed up for some special occasion. He felt a surge of hatred at the sight of her. If it hadn't been for her, he'd never have to suffer like this. He'd have lived and a died as a musician. Not as a monster.

"Damon, this is Sophie. Sophie – Damon," Katherine introduced the human girl with a bright smile. Sophie nodded. She looked dazed, and Damon understood that Katherine had compelled her. He wanted to rush at her and stop her inky black heart but he felt as if all the energy had been drained of him. "Damon, Sophie has volunteered to be your dinner tonight. Isn't that so kind?"

The cherry scent was so sweet, so refreshening in his lungs, but he felt like he could resist it, if he wanted to. If he needed to. "You will not bring me to kill."

Something in Katherine's gaze turned flinty. "Really? Shall we bet on how long you will be able to resist?" From the heel of her scarlet shoe, she brought out a small, sharp dagger. "Sometimes you do puzzle me, Damon. You seem to be ready to give up your life for a stranger."

"_Which would be worse, to live as a monster or die as a good man?"_ He replied sharply and coldly. He had not suffered through months of hell just to give it all up in one night. Although what troubled him was the prospect of living like this for an eternity, drinking only from animals which wasn't enough and never being quite close to humans because of the risk that he could kill them. He thought of Elena; he'd never get to know her better if he couldn't stop thinking about her blood. _All the time_.

Katherine shrugged. "Whatever." Every shred of morality had been stripped of her, she probably didn't even know what the word _compassion _even meant. She put the tip of the dagger to Sophie's arm and drew it along the skin to the elbow. A shimmering line of blood appeared and the scent thickened in the air.

Damon winced, as if_ he_ had been cut. "Don't…don't do that, she hasn't done you anything."

Katherine stared at him coldly. "Yes, I've heard that you don't like it when others suffer. So relieve her of the pain, Damon. Make it go away."

He realized she wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted. And maybe he should just do it now, and indeed relieve both himself and Sophie of all the trouble and agony. Give up.

"Please, Katherine don't do this, I'll do anything you want, just don't make me to do _this_," he tried desperately. He felt like he was drowning, the sensation was terrifying. But Katherine wasn't going to be the hand that picked him up out of the water.

She turned to Sophie and whispered a few compelling commands without breaking eye-contact with her.

The girl jumped down from the sarcophagi and walked towards Damon. Her scent grew until it clouded around him. She put her arms around him. She was so warm. It was like coming home after a blizzard. Every inch of his skin was on fire, he felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart.

The blood. The heartbeat. The world stopped existing.

And in one bright, clear moment he realized he wouldn't be able to resist, no matter how painful it was to accept this little fact. That left him with only one choice.

He bit down on his lip, hard, until he tasted blood, and then he drew Sophie in for a long kiss. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Katherine smile like the sun. He thought bitterly that if he ever had to kill somebody, it would be her.

After the kiss, he bit Sophie, struck like a viper over her throat and the vein that was pulsing there. It was scarily satisfying to kill her, not at all disgusting as he had imagined it. And all the blood flowed into him, bright colors appeared before his eyes. He had heard of people using _opium_, and this must probably be how it felt like. Still, there was a bitter aftertaste to the cherry blood. The guilt. In a way he had taken her life. Pain seized his heart.

As soon as her heart beat stopped, he gently put her on the floor. "She's dead," he said. There was a large, booming quiet without that pounding heart. He thought he would fall apart.

"Do you think I'm that stupid?" Katherine laughed, jumped down from the sarcophagi and went to Sophie whose blood had made a shimmering pool on the floor. Katherine gave her a kick in the side and the girl woke up with a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes were wide with horror and fluttered over the tomb, over Damon and Katherine, she probably had no idea what was going on.

"Well," Katherine pondered. "She is dead in a manner of speaking. But let's kill her one more time just to be sure." And an in a blur she had run to the corner of the tomb where an ancient torch rested against the wall. Before Damon could stop her, she had taken the torch and thrusted it into the chest of Sophie.

Sophie's expression froze, the eyes started unseeing at the ceiling. She was nothing more than a dead girl now.

Katherine pulled out the torch-stake and threw it aside. "Don't play games with me Damon, you're testing my patience." She turned away from him, opened the doors, letting a glimpse of darkness and snow and freedom in, and slammed them behind her as she rushed out. He hurried forward, tried to open the doors but in vain. For some reason his strength had disappeared again.

Vervain. Katherine had given Sophie vervain to poison the blood. He cursed her.

Then, there was nothing.

* * *

Everything was on fire. Burning with angry, red flames. He opened his eyes. Saw the same grey ceiling. Outside the sky was dark and snowy again, he had slept through the day.

Katherine was gone, Sophie's body was gone, but there was another girl sitting leaned on the sarcophagi. She looked at him with clear green eyes. His gaze shifted to the door. He understood that he needed her blood in order to get out. To breathe fresh air again.

But after Sophie, he didn't want to do it all over again. It would make him crumble into bits of Damon that couldn't be put together again.

"Can I tell you a secret?" the girl asked. There was something strong, bright, determined in her eyes. Damon nodded slowly.

"I'm not scared." She sighed softly. "I know I should be, because I know it's not going to be me who leaves this tomb, but I'm just not scared. It's sort of exciting. Now I finally get to know what death is about."

Damon couldn't look at her. "Don't say that… I'm not going to kill you. I can't."

She stood and walked up to him. Her heart beat grew louder, and her blood… He wanted not to think about it but there was no protection against it. There was no escape. He realized he was giving up.

"I don't want to wait anymore," the girl said.

He thought he could _hear _himself snap into two.

He closed his eyes. Leant over her. It was all over in a second.

No joy, no fireworks or colors. Just the feeling of sinking deeper, deeper into a coma he wouldn't wake up from.

He put the girl on the floor, and went to the doors. Now they opened easily at the very touch of his.

Full dark, no stars. Snow.

He let it all the guilt and pain and surprise over his act fade away.

All he wanted to do was forget. He took a step into dark and disappeared.

It was over.

* * *

**This makes me think of Blood Brothers in season one, when Stefan forced Damon to drink from that girl. And then also the other episode in season 2 when he kills again after not killing for a while, it kind of made me cry. **

**The title Full Dark, No Stars is inspired by Stephen King's novel with the same name. The title just got to me, it seems to have so many hidden meanings and all, I don't know, I just love it. What is ironic anyway, is that Full Dark No Stars is a collection of four short stories and one of these four stories is called: 1922. Might be coincidence, might be fate. **

_**"Which is worse, to live as a monster or die as a good man"**_** is a quote from Shutter Island, both the book and the film. It was like tailormade for this chapter, and just in general, I think the quote is so meaningful. I feel a little guilty for using it, as the book came out in 2003 and the film in 2010 and aren't really allowed into the time of 1920. But I couldn't help it, I'm sorry. **

**Oh, and in this chapter, the tomb is in a cemetery in Paris called Père Lachaise. In this cemetery, Maria Callas, Jim Morisson and Frederic Chopin are buried. And now also two girls, one of which Damon killed and the other which Damon caused to die. **

**I hate myself for doing this to the Damon of particulary my story, turning such a good person into something dark, but it has it's reasons.  
Stay aflow. **

**And thanks. **

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss**


	9. THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT

**Thanks for those who comment and follow, you are wonderful, wonderful people!**

**And I've realized that "Labor Of Love" from Michael Giacchino fits in perfectly with this chapter.**

**THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

It was just a feeling.

Stefan tried to tell himself that. Just a feeling. But there was something new and loud inside him that he didn't like, that melted the cold. It was _warmth_.

He knew what it was, but didn't want to admit it. He had lived through a 5-year old winter, and now came the thought of spring.

It was quiet in the office, only Newton's cradle made a soft clicking noise. He felt so tired. What he wouldn't give to fall asleep and wake into a brighter, more beautiful world.

The doors were thrust open with a bang that made him wince. Stefan managed to glimpse Damon before his brother ran at him in a dark blur and he was slammed away from his chair to the floor. He hadn't even started thinking about protecting himself when with one hand Damon held him down and with the other held a stake to his heart.

A silence ensued. Stefan saw the rage, the _poison _in Damon's eyes and realized what had happened. For some reason his stomach turned and again that new warmth grew in him. He didn't want it, it made him feel weak.

"Did you put the vervain into the Chardonnay?" Damon hissed. He didn't look much like Stefan's innocent brother. He was more of a demon now. "Have you anything to do with what Katherine did?"

The point of the stake was dug deeper into his chest. Stefan realized Damon was going to kill him if he told the truth. Damon probably didn't even see him as family anymore; after all, he had disowned Stefan.

"No. Damon, calm down. I have no idea what're you talking about! What did Katherine do to you?" he choked. Not to save his own life, but to save that shred of humanity he could still see in Damon. He closed his eyes. This new warmth was certainly melting him, making him crumble and fall apart.

Then he realized it. It was healing him.

Damon's face contorted in rage and hatred and disappointment. He had needed someone to blame to make it better, but with relief Stefan suddenly his life was safe and so was Damon's piece of soul. For the moment.

"If you're lying, Stefan, you're dead."

Damon jumped off him, threw the stake aside and rushed again.

Stefan continued to lie on the floor. It felt like he had taken a breath of fresh air after drowning. It hurt, but it was also wonderful.

He was back.

* * *

"Damon?"

Elena froze at the sight of the familiar shape that rushed past her. Her heart seized. She had worried two days, and it was a bittersweet relief to see him alive and well, but it didn't explain anything.

Slowly, the musician turned around.

He was as handsome as always but his bright eyes were dull. She shuddered.

"What happened?" She would have wanted to say _I've missed you_ or _You've been on my mind two days now_ but somehow the sight of this new, even gaunter Damon made her feel small. Cold.

"Nothing," he said bitterly and turned around to leave.

Suddenly the theatre foyer felt too small for the two of them.

"I don't buy it," she said. She wished she could just leave the matter be and comfort herself with the thought that he was OK, but that wasn't enough. That moment with Damon had done something to her, left an imprint. And it wouldn't go away.

Slowly he came back to her until he was close that she could have stretched out her arm and touched his hair. If she would have dared to.

"What do you want, Elena?" He seemed almost tired, and not bitter anymore, just sad. He had been sad before but this was a how new level. She wondered if she would ever see him smile with 100% happiness.

"Dinner. A nice, cozy restaurant and a few words of explanation. That is all."

He blinked, surprised. Then his expression glazed over, he frowned. "Elena, you don't want to go anywhere in the dark with me."

"Why did I then ask? Lets meet under the lime trees of Rue des Arbres tonight at seven."

She left into the auditorium before she could hear his answer. Inside she sank down into one of the satin seats and breathed in happily. For once everything in her life seemed to go the right direction.

Finally.

* * *

Rue des Arbres lay quiet and snowy in the dusk. People were taking their evening promenades or going home from work. Ladies in colorful coats and dresses and fur boas, men in dark robes and with hats and walking sticks. It was somehow a harmonious sight, an image that didn't allow anything wrong or bad.

He came. Elena saw him at first simply as a tall, dark shape in the snowy mist, then he appeared fully. She smiled brightly, a lantern in the dark. He gave her a grimace back. All the shadows of the world were clearly over him.

She hooked her arm into his and together they walked through the avenue. She wished she had one of those photo cameras so that she could freeze this image and use it to remind herself of the joy of the late October eve whenever the memory became too faded.

They walked through Paris, Paris that was so calm and gentle this lovely night, and then Damon led her into a small, warm bistro where they sat down in a corner. There was a candle on the table and wild roses that grew on vines on the brick wall.

They ordered food and then sat in quiet. Elena realized Damon wasn't enjoying this as much as she did. His eyes zoomed all over the place, couldn't really focus anywhere and she noticed his fingers were twitching.

"Damon?" she asked. His behavior made her feel nervous, as if he was a bomb that could go off at any second.

"I'll go to the restroom for a second," she said when he didn't listen and left the table, casting worrying glances at Damon.

In the bathroom she sank down on a basket with towels and sighed. She realized what was happening to her and she also understood that it would have no good end. Love – it was completely different from what was told about in all the books and plays and poems of the world. It can be the sweetest of feelings but when you get too addicted to it, it becomes the air you breathe and without it you suffocate.

She looked at herself in the mirror. A pale girl with the wounds healing but the scars left. Perhaps it would leave her destroyed if she hoped for something great and she would be disappointed. But she at least had to try.

Determined now, she hurried out of the bathroom, ready to confront Damon, but he wasn't there. Though this time she wouldn't let him get away that easily. She left her coat by their table, rushed out into the hard winter weather in only a dress. The snowy wind hit her hard but she stood against it and ran through the streets of Paris. For some reason she knew where he had gone.

She was right. He stood at the end of Rue des Arbres. Quietly she went to stand beside him and they both looked at the darkness in front of them.  
"What's happening?"

"You don't understand."

"Try me."

And she put her hand into his.

* * *

**Aw.**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	10. WICKED, WICKED WORLD

Dearest thanks to all who comment and follow. This story is for you!

**Oh, and if you haven't heard, "The Only Exception" by Paramore is very sweet and fits in with the first part of this story. **

**Now, the tenth chapter. Sit back, close your eyes (or not, because then you won't be able to see) and enjoy. **

**WICKED, WICKED WORLD**

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* * *

**

**(I own none of the characters)**

They sat on the edge of the scene and looked out on the sea of satin seats before them. It was quiet and dark and Elena felt like it was just the way it needed to be.

"I'm not even sure you'll believe me," Damon frowned and rubbed his wrists. "If I wouldn't have had this… condition, I'd not believe it myself."

Elena sighed. "It's all right, I'll believe you. Besides, I think I know what it is."

Damon looked at her, completely taken aback. "You know?"

She smoothed out the crinkly fabric of her dress under her hands. "Yes, I might be a cleaner but I'm not an idiot. You're abnormally pale and cold, for one. Then you never seem to be outside in daylight – you're the one who wanted to leave Rue des Arbres before dawn. And in this bistro we were in, there was a girl with a small cut over her hand and you stared kind of hard at it. Besides, you move too fast for a normal person." She finished it all in one breath, and then added: "Can I try something?"

Damon, who looked even moodier after her analyze, nodded.

"Hold out your arm."

She gently took it in her hands and wound her fingers around his wrist. She had not expected, but wanted a pulse, but there was nothing. His wrist was cold and could have been part of a corpse had it not moved. Her voice felt odd when she said: "So it's true. You are a… vampire. Oh."

She almost sank together. Though her analyze, she had half-heartedly hoped it had all been some kind of joke. But it was clear, judging by Damon's sad reaction, that this was real.

"I know I'm a monster. I don't understand why you're still sitting here. I've done bad things, Elena. And it's just going downwards."

"And who said that I want you to be perfect?" Elena asked and tried to comfort him with a small smile. "I'm still sitting here, because I want to. You need to realize that it doesn't matter who or what you are. What you _do _is what defines you."

"You should be a professor of philosophy, Elena." For the first time since he had disappeared, she saw the hint of smile. It was a tiny step towards a brighter future, but a step all the same.

Damon reached into his chest pocket and brought out a bottle even smaller than the Chardonnay. This one was filled with Bordeaux. Damon caught her worried gaze. "Don't worry, this isn't spiked, I've tried it."

And together they drank wine and forgot the world.

Oblivious of the person listening to them.

* * *

Dawn grew into one of those days when winter was brilliant. The sun shone, making the snow shimmer discreetly. Elena walked home, humming softly on a tune from The Magic Flute. She was nearly ecstatic. Another day of happiness. And she felt like Damon was peeking out of his cloud of misery.

She finally accepted that she was falling in love. It was bittersweet. She tried not to think about him being a vampire, it felt like something distant and surreal. Better not to soil the beautiful day with such dark thoughts.

The moment she reached her house her good mood clouded over.

Something was wrong. The feeling was as strong as it had been the day when Damon had gone missing. She paused with her hand on the door handle. It swung open with a creak and opened into the hallway, which wasn't illuminated by the sun and therefore dark.

Broken glass crunched under her shoes. Déjà vu. Things seemed to be repeating themselves, but this time it was even worse, because this was her home. And… Elena gasped.

Jeremy.

Suddenly it was as if all the time in the world was running out. She rushed up the stairs, fell and scratched up her knee but kept going, wild. If something had happened to Jeremy right after his recovery she'd never forgive herself.

Their little apartment lay quiet and abandoned. No sign of Jeremy.

Quiet. The only noise was her ragged breathing. Her mind was blank, panic-struck. She had no idea what the hell she should do now.

"Help."

She twisted round. Jeremy stood before her. She gave an upset shout and was about to run over to him when she saw the man standing behind him. He had one arm wound around Jeremy's neck. Elena felt her heart stop.

Jeremy looked just as scared as she felt. The color had drained from his face and he was struggling to breathe.

"Let him go." She choked out the words, didn't know how else she should say it.

The man narrowed his eyes and smiled demonically. "Or what?"

She hurried to the nearest chair, with some difficulty raised it into the air and then brought it down on the kitchen table. With a large crash it broke and she took one of the chair legs and held it in front of herself as a weapon. Because she felt she knew who they were.

Jeremy looked at her as if she was mad.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Elena," the man said softly. And on cue other people suddenly appeared and surrounded Elena. They were about twelve, and all vampires. She realized she didn't have a chance.

_Damon! _She thought desperately.

The man smiled again, Jeremy closed his eyes.

Then something hit the back of Elena's head…

Nothing.

* * *

**Hopefully Damon comes to the rescue!**

**But because I've left the story hanging at such place (much like the TVD does) I'll give you a hint on what happens next: Games, Blood and lots of Vampires.**

**So stay aflow to catch the next chapter. **

**By the way, after too much time, I've bought TVD first season (finally!) and I am happy happy happy. Just wanted to say that. **

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss **

**P.S Those who haven't read the books should do it, even if they differ from the TV series. At least it has got lots and lots of sweet Delena love :)**


	11. CHAOS

**Sorry that this update came so late today, but today I had an increadibly long agenda, but now I'm home, yay!**

**Thank all those who comment and follow! You are the best. people. ever. **

**So here finally comes what we'll all been waiting for. "Fresh Blood" by Eels can get you into the mood.**

**CHAOS**

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* * *

**

**(I own none of the characters)**

_Damon!_

Damon thrust open his eyes. Wooden beams made out the ceiling above him. He had no idea how long he had lain under the piano, but the whole weariness in his body told him that it was still sunny outside.

He rubbed his temple, groaned. He tried to tell himself that hearing Elena call his name was part of the nightmare, but it had felt so real. And piercing, like a lightning had struck him. His muscles had all tensed and his lungs had shaken with ragged breathing.

_Damon!_

Again it came, Elena's clear voice. He was not dreaming now – something was definitely wrong. Swiftly he jumped up from underneath the piano and ran across the scene. If Elena was in danger he had to help her. She seemed so small and vulnerable and the world was big and dark. He realized with horror that there were other vampires in Paris. He'd never forget himself if something happened to her. Somehow over the past few days, she had gotten to mean quite a lot to him.

He stormed into the foyer, wild now with her shout echoing, bouncing in his head.

That proved to be a mistake – the foyer was light and sunny: the curtains had been drawn from the windows and sun flooded through in golden beams. He hissed with pain as a ray hit him. The skin sizzled like frying eggs and turned red. Quickly he scrambled into a shadowed corridor and let the burns heal while he wondered what he should do.

Elena was in danger. But he'd burn in the sun if he tried to go out and follow the sound. For a moment he was willing to die while trying to help her, but then he realized that'd bring her nothing. He needed to think rationally, which was hard.

Lately his mind had been a dark sea in which he was drowning. The water was like syrup and sucking him in. But then Elena came and put out her hand to try and pull him out. So he was stuck in this grey zone, between destruction and savior. He felt like he was being ripped in two. Should he give into the painless, soft darkness or burn in Elena's light? He didn't know.

Stefan had a ring against sunlight, he suddenly realized. In a moment he had climbed the stairs and stormed into Stefan's office on the second floor. But it was empty. In disappointment and anger Damon kicked the desk so that a delicate creature made of glass fell and shattered on the floor. His shoulders were shaking, his mind reeling.

He couldn't walk out into the sunlight – he would have to wait for darkness to fall, despite the impatience that gnawed at his bones. The need to rush out was overwhelming, but there was nothing he could do.

Spotting Stefan's liquor cabinet he stumbled to it and looked inside. Whiskey, cognac, wine, all good brands that Stefan could easily afford. Damon didn't care. He chose one randomly and sank against the desk while he poured the amber liquid into himself. It burned, but in a good way. And it was a relief to know that alcohol still worked on vampires. Perhaps when this chaos was over, he'd drink himself delirious and forget everything, stop being Damon Salvatore for a while. Because the truth was, that being Damon Salvatore wasn't the easiest.

It was hell.

* * *

Day turned into night painfully slowly. Elena's call couldn't stop echoing in his mind, bouncing from one wall to another like a squash ball. It burnt holes in him while it also calmed him. Her voice, Elena's voice, always made him at peace for some reason. It was so strange that a girl who was the mirror image of Katherine could be so different from that devil. It was also lovely.

Finally the tension eased from his limbs. He didn't hesitate and rushed out of the theatre so fast that he was just a breeze.

The good weather was gone; the sky had clouded over, angry, black and it was snowing so furiously that Damon felt he was trapped in a snow globe. He wondered where the glass walls were.

In the middle of Rue de Soleil, he had to stop to feel the pull that was guiding him towards Elena. It was a distant pull, but his determination was strong. If Elena was so in the Far East, he'd find her. Always.

He wove tirelessly through the stormy streets, ignored all the people. All there was, was this pull that was the strongest, brightest he had felt in quite a while. There was enough energy in his system to light a thousand light bulbs and he knew that even when his feet were broken that he'd keep going. He couldn't resist the magnetic power. He couldn't run away from Elena.

Paris started to fade into the country side. Here the world was wilder, darker. Untangled. The sky was inky, dotted with a thousand snow flakes. Houses, big and small were like black rocks thrown on the snow. Castles, cottages, forts. The pull was so strong now that he wasn't in control of his movement, it was as if his legs had a power of their own. But what surprised him was that his heart forced him on as strongly.

Finally the pull stopped, like a ribbon that had been cut off. He skidded to a stop, slipped on the frozen road and fell. When he had blinked away the stars and risen, he saw that he stood in front of an enormous mansion. The doors were open, blowing light out into the night.

At once he was on his guard, every movement was controlled. Slowly he neared the doors. He smelled the others clearly. They were right here, right now, and there were many. Despite his determination, he felt a little nervous. Apart from Katherine and Stefan, he had never met any other vampires before. And Katherine had told tales. There could be people worse than her.

He had to go inside. If Elena was anywhere here he couldn't just run away just because there were other monsters. Besides, he was a monster himself. How bad could it be?

He stepped over the threshold. The hall he entered was beautiful and bright, the floor of black marble that was so polished he could see his own reflection. Like black ice. There was a chandelier with crystals that glittered furiously and sent a rainbow shimmer dancing over the hall.

There were doors everywhere, and a staircase. He didn't know where to go, what they would lead him to.

Then suddenly the lights went out.

Pitch-darkness. He froze and stopped breathing. There was no noise, no scent. Nothing. A feeling of utter helplessness fell over him. Something was wrong.

As fast as they had gone out, the lights came on again.

But he wasn't alone anymore.

Crowded around him in a perfect ring stood men and women, vampires in dark clothes. Their eyes glittered in the candle-light. They all looked hungry, or more correctly, _thirsty_.

He clenched his fists, ready to fight to the end. But first, something more important.

"Where is she? Where's Elena?" He _knew _she was here. She had to be. Otherwise he felt the others wouldn't be standing here. It was as if they had waited for him.

A man in front of him took a step forward and broke the circle. Damon glared at him.

"Let's us take care of other matters, first," he said calmly and smiled politely. "But now, let me introduce myself. Damon Salvatore, my name is Elijah."

Damon said nothing. There was something horribly wrong about this vampire, a presence that shook with power.

"Welcome to the Dark Side."

* * *

**Yes. I know. Another cliffhanger. But we are rushing at the part of this story that's starting to get intense. And I'll comfort you with the thought that next update will be soothingly loooong, but not necessarily boring and definitely not slow-paced. Lots of things have to happen, hearts have to be broken, dark friendships have to be created and blood must be drunk. **

**Stay aflow. **

**Goodbye and goodluck, **

**CheeseSwiss**

**P.S John Ajvide Lindkvist (author of Let The Right One In): "Sometimes the walls that part the monsters from the people are so thin. Paperthin." **


	12. ANASTASIA

**Here it comes. The update that follows up the horror that we left in CHAOS. This chapter and the next couple will be pretty intense as we progress towards the middle. We'll be awed and shocked, I hope ;)**

**So, without further due:**

**ANASTASIA**

* * *

**(I own none of the characaters)**

Elena slowly opened her eyes. The world swayed, as if she was on a boat in a storm. Her head throbbed and when she rubbed it with numb fingers, flakes of dried blood swirled down. And there was a sick feeling in her stomach, something misfit.

When she had blinked away the blurriness from her eyes, she looked around. She was in a large room with tall windows viewing the storm outside. The hard snow tapped on the glass with the noise of drumming fingers. The sound boomed in her ears, razor-sharp. Everything ached.

The room was partly empty, apart from the soft carpet she was lying on and a sofa in front of her. On the sofa sat a young woman in a fluffy fur coat and looked back at Elena, smiling. Her hair flowed over her shoulders in raven-black curls, and her eyes were pitch-dark as well, but the red lips made a great contrast in her pale face. Snow-White, Elena thought dazedly.

It was just a feeling, but something told her to be on her guard. Despite the beautiful appearance, she seemed to be radiating cold and lack of emotion. Vampire.

Elena moved deliberately slowly. She had seen how fast Damon could move, and knew that the woman could attack her at any given moment – and she'd loose. Desperately she looked around the room, but there was nothing she could protect herself with and she'd never get to the doors in time. Besides, what did it matter to try to escape this woman when the whole house was filled with vampires?

Suddenly she noticed a shape behind the bone-white sofa and froze. Elena recognized it.

Jeremy.

He was lying facedown on the floor and he wasn't moving. A little pool of blood had gathered by his throat.

It was as if her windpipe became clogged. She couldn't breathe. She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth, no noise came out. The horror was strong. _Real_. If he was dead, she didn't know what she should do. What would become of her. He couldn't be dead, he couldn't, he couldn't…

"What did you do to him?" she finally managed to stammer to the young woman. Her voice grew as her anger did. Rage was notorious for lending strength, and for a moment, she felt like she invincible. The woman – Elena could kill her in a second. "I said _what did you DO TO HIM_?"

The young woman's eyes narrowed, but she still smiled, now tensely. "Relax. He isn't dead. I can hear his heartbeat. I was just… thirsty." Her eyes turned steely. "Calm down, or I will finish what I've started."

Elena, shaking, forced herself to breathe normally again. Hatred bloomed in her heart. She was a little relieved that Jeremy wasn't dead but the relief was clouded by the anger. She knew she wouldn't be able to control herself for a very long time, not when every piece of her heart wanted the woman dead.

"My name is Anastasia. Wife to Elijah, he was the one who brought you here today." She cocked her head to the side as if she was listening to something. "Oh, it seems your boyfriend has arrived."

Elena's heart somersaulted. Damon. It was a bittersweet realization to know he was here. She was glad that he was here, that meant a small chance for her, no matter how tiny. But she was also scared. Damon was strong, but he'd have no chance against so many vampires.

"What do you want from me?" Elena asked coldly, her eyes constantly shifting to Jeremy, whose fingers twitched a little. A sign of life. She hoped talking would distract Anastasia from hurting him even more.

"From you?" Anastasia smiled. "That's an excellent question. There's much we want from you. You're the doppelganger, after all."

"Doppelganger?"

"Ah, you don't know, do you? Well, here:" Anastasia reached into her pocket and brought a paper out which she handed to Elena.

It wasn't a paper at all, but a photograph. And Elena felt her insides freeze as she realized what an image she was looking at.

She was looking at herself, only a slightly different Elena. This Elena's hairs were curly and the eyes, the eyes were empty and dark. She wore a dress that looked to be taken from the mid-1800's. Even the date was scribbled in the corner, in shiny red ink. _8__th__ of August, 1848. Ekaterina Petrova. _

Without realizing it, the photograph slipped out of her fingers and landed gently on the floor like a feather. Elena's voice sounded hollow when she asked: "Is this some kind of joke? What do you really want from me? _Who are you_?"

Anastasia stared at her intently. "As I said, I'm Anastasia. Anastasia Petrova. Katherine's sister."

* * *

Damon didn't know what to say, or do, or how he should help Elena, who he felt was close, painfully close but still unreachable. These vampires observed his every move, he couldn't take them by surprise. Perhaps he'd be able to fight a couple off, but that was all. That wasn't enough. It wouldn't save her.

He had never been so disappointed in himself before.

"There's a reason for why you're here," Elijah said, folding his chalk-white hands. "You know that, do you Damon? There's a reason for everything."

Damon just glared at him. He knew Elijah was old, and therefore so much stronger, after all – Damon was just a year old vampire, basically an infant. He wished he could disintegrate into dust or something like every superstitious believed a vampire could do. But wishes were useless now.

"So what have I done?"Damon asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Remember killing someone lately?" Elijah asked, and now there was a dark edge to his voice that made Damon shiver.

He didn't want to remember. It was bad enough to still feel the blood of the girl rush through his bloodstream, without remembering that he was a murderer. So, actually, when he thought about it, he deserved all this. If the vampires decided to kill him now, it was all just. And he'd understand.

"I asked you a question," Elijah snapped.

"Yes, I remember, I remember!" Damon said, his shoulders shaking again. The disgust over himself overwhelmed him, the image of the horrible night kept popping into his mind. Green eyes, giving up, that ultimate feeling of loosing yourself to evil.

"You did a really wrong thing by killing Iris. She's the daughter of one of ours. And we don't kill those who are close to us."

The sharpness in his voice made Damon wince.

"You'll have to be punished," Elijah continued, in a softer tone. "Take-"

But Damon was already off. With perfect precision he had chosen a moment when no vampire had been alert, and he took them by surprise. He broke the ring and ran up the stairs as fast as he could. He was being pulled towards Elena again. Get her and get out, he thought.

Unfortunately he had underestimated the other vampires. It didn't take them too long to come after him and before Damon reached the last stair, he was thrown to the ground by one. Something was stabbed into the back of his neck, thin and sharp. He hissed and fought himself free. Then he ran on, fueled by mere willpower.

The other vampires held back, as if they already knew he wasn't going to make it.

They were right. He took a few staggering steps, then fell to the floor again with a soft thud. Only pure determination stopped him from giving in to the darkness. He couldn't give up on Elena like this, he _had to do it _if so he had to crawl to wherever she was held.

With the help of the banister he pulled himself upright, swayed and then wobbled through the corridor. The bloody vervain destroyed his sense of balance and dark spots danced before his eyes. Closing them, he _listened _for Elena instead. He could hear her heartbeat, she was close, just a couple of more steps.

It was too much. He sank to the floor. There was a rustle of clothes as the vampires crowded around him. Damon could feel Elijah's ice-cold presence and he knew the bastard was smiling.

_I'm sorry, _he thought and gave in to the darkness.

_I failed you_.

* * *

**Yes, this has certainly been an evening full twists and tension. You probably didn't count on Katherine having a sister. But I've always pictured she had one for some reason, so Anastasia comes in here smoothly. **

**The weather where I am right now is as stormy as in the story, snow-rain, darkness, cold. And just like in the story I'll hope for brighter days - for spring.**

**Stay aflow.**

**Goodbye and goodluck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	13. LET THE OLD DREAMS DIE

**Thank you all those who comment and follow. There are no words to describe how thankful I am!**

**And as you probably want to read this instead of read whatever rubbish I am writing now, I will be short. **

**You're beautiful by James Blunt and Gassenhauer by Carl Orff is the soundtrack of this chapter:**

**LET THE OLD DREAMS DIE**

* * *

Suddenly Anastasia stood up and left. The moment the door was shut, Elena woke up from her daze and hurried to Jeremy. Her hands shook as she gently turned him on his back. The sight made her whimper.

He was as pale as Anastasia, this abnormal bluish pallor, and his throat was crusted with blood. It still bled a little. She didn't hesitate, tore of the sleeve from her blouse and pressed the cotton against the wound. The best for Jeremy would have been Dr. Saltzman and nurse Caroline, but they weren't even close and as Elena's gaze swept the room again, she saw neither a telephone nor a telegraph. Meanwhile, Jeremy danced on the thread of life and death, and she could do nothing about it. That bitter fact made something in her break apart. She needed to get out of this house before something worse happened. Jeremy was worth at least that much.

He opened his eyes, slowly, and blinked in the light of the great chandelier, then he squeezed them shut again because of the pain in his throat. "Where am I?" he croaked.

She wished she had an answer. Where were they? _In a very bad place_, she thought. The feeling of unease hadn't left her, even with Anastasia's departure. That photograph. It was of her, but also of someone called Katherine, who Anastasia was sister to. It didn't make any sense, she didn't want it to make sense, but it also seemed true; she'd always been good at detecting _lies _and this wasn't one.

What was even worse, was that Damon was here. If he'd been OK she knew he would have already gotten her and Jeremy out here, but now she realized something bad had happened to him. Why was it so that all the bad things had to happen to those she held dear? Why couldn't those happy days have stretched out into eternity?

But apparently, the fate that included Damon didn't end well, it was not like in the fairytales. To love meant to hurt. She wondered if she would be able to stand through that kind of pain and come out whole. Was Damon worth it? The answer was crystal-clear. Yes, always yes.

"I don't know," she whispered in a voice that suddenly sounded too loud in the quiet. She winced.

Jeremy tried to sit up and she helped him up to stumble to the sofa and put him down there. His throat quickly colored the bone-white fabric red. He looked up at Elena with terror in his eyes. "Is it bad?"

Elena swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded. "Yes, it's bad. But don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you while you're with me." She'd fight anyone who tried to hurt him to the end. No matter how bad the chances. There was also a sort of confidence in her. If she could – indirectly – win over a lethal disease, perhaps she could even over a vampire. Perhaps.

Jeremy closed his eyes. "I feel tired. Can I sleep now?"

His words chilled her bones. But she nodded. "Sleep now." _Forget everything and everyone and sleep. Dream sweetly._

* * *

He was on a beach that stretched on endlessly. The sky was twilight-grey, a light breeze swept him and the sand. Waves rose and sank as the sea breathed.

Here, he was at peace. There was no pain, or bad memories or ache, just eternal calm like a cocoon of down that he was sleeping in. Finally, he thought.

Next to him, sat Elena. Her hair whipped in the wind, she held her arms around her knees and she smiled. She was content as well.

This dream felt like a dose of morphine. The bad thing was that this was only a dream. How wonderful if this had been reality. Only the sea, him and Elena. This was a place with no room for problems or vampires or murder. It was the blank paper in an otherwise full book.

The dream began to fade. Sadly he watched Elena, the sea, the sky, the sand become blurrier until they all had reached the same color. The dream was gone. Now only darkness remained.

He opened his eyes.

A light bulb swung over his head, giving off this feeble orange light, illuminating a ceiling covered in words. Messages. _I will never forget Hedwig_, one said. Another: _These monsters can break one's body down, but not the spirit. I embrace death._ _Forgive me._

He groaned and sat up, feeling fuzzy. His neck felt like it had been cut with razor.

Something moved beside him. He flinched and shot to the nearest wall out of surprise. Breathless, he looked at the creature that slowly moved out of the shadows. Into the light.

Stefan.

Damon frowned, couldn't really believe his eyes. "Stefan? What…? What are you doing here?"

Stefan looked as if he had seen better days. His brown hair was messy, there were even darker rings under his eyes than usual and he looked at Damon with a weary gaze.

"I should ask you the same," he said hoarsely.

Damon cracked his knuckles, as he always did when he was nervous and observed his brother anxiously. That Stefan was here made everything far worse. Even though he hated his brother, it meant another person to save. Damon wasn't Katherine – he couldn't be so heartless to leave his kin to the wolves.

He stood up, supporting himself on the wall. They were in a cell with stone walls and a window with bars. The door of iron looked strong enough and the vervain had weakened him so he realized that was no option of escape.

"How much do you know about this Elijah?" Damon asked with narrowed eyes. If he was right with his suspicions, and Stefan was still in contact with Katherine, perhaps he also knew Elijah. Perhaps even he was in the cell for _a reason_.

The atmosphere suddenly felt cold.

Stefan opened his mouth to answer but in that moment the iron door slammed open and two vampires stormed in. They grabbed Damon, one arm each, and without a word pulled him out of the cell.

Damon was shaking with rage but let it happen. He didn't feel like he could take on anyone, not just yet while he was still recovering.

They led him through a corridor with flickering lights, up a set of stairs, opened a door and pushed him inside.

It was an office, great book cases lined the walls with golden volumes, there was a fire-place where a fire burned contentedly and crackled. Behind a great oak desk was an even greater chair. And in the chair sat Elijah.

He sat with his elbows on the desk and his fingertips touched. He observed Damon curiously.

Damon said nothing, but waited for Elijah to talk at first. He hated the vampire, but simultaneously he felt an involuntary respect. This man was after all more than five hundred years old. One of the originals. Damon had heard Stefan mention them.

"I've decided to let you know what I'm going to do," Elijah finally said sharply. Then, he smiled. "It just makes everything more… exciting, don't you think?"

Damon didn't answer, but focused his gaze intently on the fire, while he calculated his next moves thoroughly in his head.

"Here's what's going to happen: I need Stefan to bring little Katherine to me. Anastasia, her sister, has already tried but Katherine is one hard nut to crack. And why do we need Katherine? The thing is, Damon, that Klaus is coming to town. He is the oldest vampire in history and he wants her and Elena, the doppelganger, to do a very important thing. And to achieve this important thing, he has to sacrifice them both."

Damon clenched his fists.

"And this all just fits so well into what I have in store for _you_. I understand your attachment to Elena. So I'm going to let you watch her die."

Next Damon did something very dangerous, _suicidal_. But that moment his life didn't matter so much to him. So he did it.

For Elena.

In a lightning-quick move he rushed to fireplace, grabbed a burning stick and then ran back to Elijah.

And with a growl he plunged the stick into Elijah's cold dead heart.

* * *

**Yes, I know, I've joined the Kill-Elijah-group that the TVD-writers are so notorious for. But will Elijah rise again or not? **

**And what exactly is Anastasia going to do?**

**By the way, am I the only one who just dies of the thought of TVD returning in APRIL? Perhaps we should make Elijah visit CW and "have a nice little chat" and a "cup of tea"!**

**Stay aflow.**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	14. LEAP OF FAITH

**Hi! I'm sorry I haven't written over the weekend but I had fever and felt bad, so I didn't really have any time to continue, which is cruel, considering where we left the story last. **

**Anyway, here it is, and I hope you all like it. I've written many stories in my life but this one takes the cake, considering I have _someone _to write to this time. **

**Thank you all who comment and follow. You power me to continue and I am filled with gratitude!**

**LEAP OF FAITH**

* * *

Silence.

Damon stared at the piece of wood sticking out of Elijah's heart. He saw the blood color the white shirt red. He waited for Elijah to die, but for some reason Elijah didn't close his eyes, didn't breathe his last breath.

Damon stumbled back as Elijah gripped the stick and pulled it out. Elijah threw the bloody stick to the ground. He looked so angry that even Damon felt a sting of fear. But somehow the vampire managed to keep himself calm, he even smiled stiffly at Damon. "That wasn't so polite, was it?" As if Damon had broken his favorite teacup, not just killed him.

Elijah rose, tore past Damon and went to the door. He opened it, peered out. "You're such an imbecile, you know that?" he hissed as he had slammed the door shut again. "Are you always like this: going after your impulses rather than your wit?" He punched the door and the wood broke under his fist. "I want to kill you right here, right now, just because you've proven how absolutely arrogant you are!"

Damon swallowed. Elijah's behavior confused him. Not that he wanted to die, but if Elijah would have been his enemy, he would have killed Damon by now. This whole thing didn't make any sense. "I don't understand.." he said hesitantly and regretted having just tried to stake Elijah.

"Remember when I said everything happens for a reason? Everything _does _happen for a reason. I also say certain things for a reason. That was a _hint_, Salvatore, _a hint_! I was acting the villain because there are spies and traitors in this house that listen to every word I say, so I can't really blurt out that I'm on your side, can I? Just a moment ago I knew someone was listening so I had to say what I did – but you just couldn't help killing me, could you?"

Damon struggled to understand. It didn't help either that the vervain had made his mind fuzzy and unfocused. Could it really be that Elijah was good? It was almost too good to be true, like a beggar would suddenly find a chunk of gold in the gutter. "Whose… whose spies?"

Elijah sighed, as if Damon's mere question made him annoyed. "The Queen's. Whose do you think? It's Klaus. He's behind all of this. Soon, he's coming to Paris and he has nothing beautiful planned. He thinks he has me in his pocket." Elijah laughed curtly. "He's going to have a nasty surprise."

"But what does he want to do?"

"Something big. Something that involves sacrificing the vampire Katherine Pierce and her doppelganger. He has a witch too, so I guess it has something to do with a spell… I've heard rumors that he will unleash some kind of incarnation of evil." Elijah rubbed his temple as if he had a hard time thinking. "Whatever it is, I know we have to stop him or it will have disastrous consequences for all of us."

He started pacing the office about, then stopped and stared at Damon intensely.  
"I knew him once. I was his friend. But he betrayed me." His eyes were dark as he remembered the past. "I know how he is, his behavior, and his tendency to do very bad things. He doesn't really tolerate humans either, especially not after the war. This monster has to be stopped."

He held out a hand that was smudged with blood. Damon stared at it, feeling his insides twist. Could Elijah really be trusted? Damon realized he had no other choice. If this would save Elena and Stefan, perhaps he should do it. Hesitantly, he took Elijah's hand and shook it.

A leap of faith.

* * *

Elena held Jeremy in her arms. Her eyes were closed and an outsider would have thought she was sleeping but actually her mind was working speedily. She had realized already quite some time ago that she had to come up with something that'd get her, Jeremy and Damon out of here.

But for a moment there was no solution, no end to the problem that surrounded her. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at the window. The snow had stopped falling, but it was still pitch-dark, as if someone had turned off the light of the moon. She thought of home and realized how much she missed it, despite its shabbiness and minimal proportions. It was still _home, _a place where she felt safe and warm.

If things had only gone different the previous night. If she hadn't met up with Damon on that particular night. Then perhaps the vampires would have never gone to her house. She sighed. Too many ifs. There was no point on lingering on the past. She had to focus on the future.

The main problem was Anastasia. When Elena thought about it, she realized that the vampire did look a little like her. The same dark hair, dark eyes and smile. It was spooky, as if seeing a sibling she had never known. Was it really possible that Anastasia was sister to a Katherine that Elena was doppelganger to? She didn't know. It all made her head spin. If only things could keep to the normal, but instead all she got was vampires and evil sisters and doppelgangers. She nearly laughed, but stopped herself before she woke Jeremy. Again with the ifs!

She carefully eased the strip of cotton from Jeremy's neck. The wound had stopped bleeding and now she could see how bad it was. It looked mostly harmless, simply two dark pricks on his pale skin, but she knew that it was far worse than that. The tip of the iceberg.

Perhaps she could bargain with Anastasia, tell her that she would give herself voluntarily in favor for Jeremy, but she wasn't really sure if she was in a position where she could bargain. Anastasia was strong and would just force Elena to do whatever was needed of her. Elena bit her lip. She really had to find a way to solve this. Fast.

Suddenly the answer came to her like a ray of sun on a cloudy day. She nearly laughed with relief and scolded herself with nothing haven't found the answer earlier; now that she thought about it, it was so obvious!

Carefully she eased her arms from Jeremy and jumped off the sofa. She went to the window, inhaled deeply and smashed the glass with her fist. With a crash it broke and sparkling shards swirled like snowflakes to the floor. Her hand hurt, but she simply wiped the blood off on her dress and gritted her teeth. This was no time to be petty!

Cold winter wind blew in and chilled her warm skin. She stuck her head out of the window and looked to her sides. Some windows were illuminated, some were dark. She tried to find an office in one of them.

There! To the right. An office meant a telephone and she could call ford the particular help she needed. It wasn't very far to the window of the office either, if she could grab hold of drain pipe she only needed to reach the window sill of the office. Much fortunately for her also, the window was slightly open.

She pulled herself up on the window sill and looked down. It was a good ten meters to the ground, falling was not an option. For a moment she wondered if this was smart at all, but then she thought of Jeremy and realized she couldn't be a coward.

Not now.

Breathing in deeply, she took hold of the slippery drain pipe and hooked her legs around it, simultaneously letting go of the window sill. The cold wind beat around her, tried to rip her from the pipe and freeze her bones.

She stretched out an arm to grab hold of the sill of the office window. It was covered in ice and her fingers slipped. Desperately she clawed on it to have a firmer hold.

She lost her hold on the drain pipe and suddenly she was dangling from the windowsill. The panic was so strong that she couldn't even give a sound.

The ice cracked under her fingers. Frantically she tried to grip the stone better, but it was too late.

She made no noise as she fell to the ground.

* * *

**Now that's what's called a _real _cliffhanger. No, but I will continue soon to declare the fate of our Let Me Sing A Song For You-heroine.**

**By the way, if you ever feel in the mood for something very interesting to listen to, I can recommend: _Gassenhauer _by Carl Orff. Heard in the Simpsons (wierdly enough) and loved it. **

**And always remember to never give up on something you are working on! Don't stop doing something you love just because people have given you bad feedback. Because you are fantastic and creative and can do everything, and if you believe that than nothing can stop you! Confidence is cool. **

**Stay alert.**

**Goodbye and good luck, **

**CheeseSwiss**


	15. THE FORKED ROAD

**I must warn you before this chapter begins that things have turned a bit darker in the story, so light a candle or something. Nah, I'm just joking but actually I am in this depressed mood right now because in a beloved series of mine (not TVD) a very important and much cherished character has died, so…**

**Anyway, thank you all those who comment and follow, you are sweethearts!**

**I am starting to feel the warmth of the spring sun.**

**THE FORKED ROAD**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

It was as if time moved slower as she rushed to meet the snowy ground. She saw the pitch-dark sky, the moon. Ice-cold wind brushed against her back.

_No!_

It couldn't end like this, so cruelly. She couldn't die now, not before she saved Jeremy and Damon. The last second of her life was filled with deep, deep regret. If only things could have developed differently. If only things didn't have to end like this. She closed her eyes. _I'm sorry, Jeremy. And Damon – I wish I got more time to spend with you_.

She already felt the chill of the snow that covered the ground and braced herself for the landing. Hopefully she'd die quickly, and not have to suffer slowly.

But she never reached the ground. Two hands came out of nowhere and caught her before she landed. Her heart felt like it had stopped. The hands gently lowered her on the soft snow. She looked up at her rescuer.

"Damon?"

He smiled at her, a little sadly. He looked a little distraught and there was dry blood on his neck, but otherwise he seemed to be fine. She didn't know whether to cry or laugh with relief. The moment was brilliant and dark altogether.

"What are you doing, Elena?" Damon helped her up and brushed the snow off her coat. "The situation is dire enough as it is without you jumping out of windows."

Elena tried to explain, but found that when she opened her mouth no noise came out. All her feelings suddenly became untangled and she pressed herself against Damon to find a little comfort. He understood and embraced her warmly. "They've hurt Jeremy," Elena whispered into Damon's shirt. "I don't know what to do."

Damon was about to answer but was interrupted by the sound of approaching steps. They both looked up and Elena saw the man that had threatened her brother back home come towards them. She stiffened. There was a smile on the man's lips that made her shiver.

"Don't worry," Damon said quietly. "He's on our side."

Elena looked at him to see if he was joking, but his bright eyes were full of truth and she relaxed, but the feeling of unease never left her. The man had this aura around him, an aura of power that made her think of a Greek god, like Zeus.

"Hello, Elena, I'm Elijah," the man said politely and reached out one hand. Elena took it hesitantly. It was cold and soft like snow. Though she was quite sure that it had the strength to break all the bones in her hand and quickly ended the hand-shake.

"You'll have to explain to her what's going on later, there's no time now," Elijah said to Damon, now a grave expression on his face. "They're coming."

Elena thought of Anastasia and the fear clogged her airways like ice. It didn't help either that she had no idea of what was going on. Elijah was a good guy, Damon had allied with Elijah, she had a doppelganger. She wanted to hide under a thick, soft duvet and never come out. Because the world was too cruel, too… _surprising_.

"Ah, they're close," Elijah said, his head cocked to the side as if he was listening to something. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this."

And suddenly, completely unexpected, he struck Damon across the face. Damon stumbled back and fell. With a gasp of surprise and distress, she knelt beside him on the snow. His lip was bleeding. Angrily he wiped it on his sleeve and glared at Elijah, who looked back at them with a gaze that said: _Sorry, had to be done_.

They quickly understood why he had done it. In a second they were surrounded by the vampires and Elena's stomach churned. Fortunately she didn't see Anastasia amongst them and would have breathed out with relief, had it not been for the fact that there was still about a dozen other vampires that were least as dangerous and bloodthirsty as Katherine's sister.

"What's this?" a vampire with white-blonde hair and a owl-like grey eyes snapped at Elijah. "How did they escape."

Elijah smiled coldly and professionally and Elena was almost impressed by how well he played the role of the villain. "You tell me, Agnes. Aren't you supposed to be guarding them? It would be so… unfortunate if it's proven that you do not follow your duties."

Agnes' whole arrogance was as if washed away. She looked down to avoid Elijah's intense gaze and mumbled something no one could hear.

Elijah sighed impatiently and looked with narrowed eyes at all his enemies that he pretended to be allied with. "Now please bring them back and make sure they don't escape this time." He gave them all a last withering gaze and then suddenly marched off, so quickly that in a second he was just another shadow in the darkness.

Damon and Elena were pulled to their feet. As they started to drag off Damon, Elena felt a pang of fresh panic and intuition, as if she already knew she would never see Damon again and that made her feel as if every inch of her skin was on fire. "Damon!" she called, wild. She tried to fight the vampires that were beginning to pull her in the other direction, but they were too strong. "_Damon!_" she whispered.

He turned his head around and, though his eyes were dark, tried to smile warmly and comfortingly. "_It's going to be all right_. _I promise you_."

If she only could believe those simple words. If only things ended happily and she could be with Damon in no time, with Jeremy in one piece beside them. If only fate wanted them to be together and her to be happy.

As Damon disappeared out of view, she felt like her heart would explode in a million sharp pieces. Sure, Elijah was on their side and apparently he had some huge plan that possibly could lead to the safety of Damon, Jeremy and her, but she was still scared as she had never been in her life. Not only that, but she felt lonely, too. In this mansion full of vampires and evil people there was no one beside Damon who made her feel a little lighter. And now Damon was taken away too.

They went around the house and entered through the front doors again. Elena loathed the place, no matter how grand it was with all the chandeliers and red carpets and paintings. The air here was thick with fear and pain and evil. She wondered how long she would have to stay here and if she would go mad in the meantime.

This time they didn't bring her to the room where Jeremy was, and that made her even more frightened. Now she had no idea if Anastasia would come back and kill her brother. There was no way to protect him.

The white-blonde vampire, Agnes, brought her into a room no larger than a broom cupboard and tied her hands behind her back with a length of rope. Elena could only look at Agnes with plea for mercy before the door was slammed shut in front of her face.

She was alone in the dark.

**

* * *

**

I know, this is very unfair to both Elena and Damon: they should be together. But if Elijah is the friend he supposes he is: perhaps then they will be united and Jeremy will be saved and everyone will be happy. We'll see ;)

**By the way, you guys are the best!**

**Stay alert.**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	16. THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE

**I'm sorry there has been a gap in my usual update order, but I've been preoccupied with the mess happening in the world at the moment. Almost every half hour I check the news to see what is happening in Japan, Bahrain and Libya. I am not very happy and a little worried but I think the best for us right now is to stay calm. Take a deep breath and try to think rationally. Think of this chapter as a dose of morphine if you want. And enjoy.**

**Oh, and thank you all those who comment and follow. I am simply blushing!**

**THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

Tyler Lockwood broke off a twig from the chrysanthemum bush in the greenhouse and before leaving gently stuffed the flower into the pocket of his coat. For Sarah. She would like it.

It was snowing densely now, and dusk was a grey soft light by the horizon. He strolled contently through the crowded streets of Paris, whistling happily to himself; it was a good day. The next full moon was in four weeks – a month of freedom, when he could be with Sarah without the wolf destroying everything.  
He thought.

Soon he neared his home, a great mansion. A single window was illuminated and guided him through the gathering dark. With keen senses, he could already feel the warmth of the house and the scent of winter-apple pie in the kitchen. He smiled. Perhaps Sarah had peeked into a cooking book.

But before he even reached the door, he knew something was wrong and froze. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but there was this _vibration _in the air that made him feel on the edge. Something wasn't as it should be. He thought of Sarah and his mind jerked alert.

Tyler could move really fast if he wanted to, and now he _needed _to which made him all the quicker. In a second he had opened the door and stormed into the feebly lit hallway. All his muscles were taut, ready. If a thief or something worse had come into his house he would finish them off before they even knew what was happening.

But there was no one there. He couldn't feel a… presence. Only a small warmth wafting towards him from the living room. He wasn't sure whether it was Sarah's aura or a stranger's. As noiselessly as he could he slowly entered the great room.

A fire was crackling in the fire-place, the orange light dancing on the dark walls. He clenched his hands into fists. "Sarah?" he asked cautiously.

There was a click behind him. He spun round. A man stood by the door with his hand on the handle. He was blonde with blue eyes and there was a lopsided smile on his lips. Tyler felt all inside him go cold. He prepared to rush at the trespasser but the man held up one hand and grimaced. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

And another door to the living room opened and a woman strode in, dragging Sarah with her who looked terrified. Tyler winced but couldn't move. In a second he had realized the woman was different; she looked human with soft brown hair and brown eyes, but she radiated no warmth and he was almost sure that her heart wasn't beating. He had met this type of creature before.

Vampire.

The woman sat down in a chair by the fire-place and pulled down Sarah to sit beside her. Tyler wanted to do something but it was as if there was lead in his blood. He could only look in horror as the vampire wound her pale fingers around Sarah's wrist. Desperately he wished he could be any braver, do something heroic, save Sarah from these monsters, but the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to do anything weighed him down.

"That's right," the vampire said softly. "If you do anything foolish I'll rip your head off and hers too." Saying it in a normal, almost warm tone made the threat seem even colder and Tyler shivered involuntarily. He stared at the woman, willed her to disappear into thin air. As expected, nothing happened.

The man stepped around Tyler and sat down in another chair and cracked his knuckles as he looked quizzically at Tyler.

"What do you want?" Tyler forced out of himself. His voice sounded like a forlorn soul in a storm, helpless. He tried not to sound his fear, but the result was the opposite. It was not his life he feared for; death didn't seem too bad for a werewolf, but Sarah didn't deserve any of this. He was sure the man and the woman had come for his sake, and now his beloved had to suffer for it. The bitterness in his throat thickened.

The woman sighed. "Has no one learnt you manners, Tyler? First, we introduce ourselves: I am Isobel Flemming and this is my husband John Gilbert. We are very honored to meet you, you see – there are not very many werewolves presently in Paris, and I don't want to go Brazil or America; too much of a voyage."

Tyler felt again all warmth leave him. So the vampire knew what he was. Of course, it wasn't too surprising – the vampires probably also had hair-fine senses and supernatural powers. But he could see that Sarah seemed to become even paler. She had no idea what was going on, and Tyler didn't have the heart to tell her, not ever. It was better for everyone if she kept living in her realm of ignorance.

"Sit!" John Gilbert snapped to Tyler. Tyler forced himself to sit down in the last chair. He stared at the man. He wasn't scared of this human, but there was something that made him still feel like he ought to stay away – and that was when he spotted the braided grass necklace around the neck. Only it wasn't grass – it was wolfsbane. When Tyler inhaled sharply the tang seemed to burn his lungs.

"It isn't necessary to keep her here," he said – as he mustered enough courage – to Isobel. She rolled her eyes and retorted: "I think I'll still keep her as… reassurance."

"So what do you want?"

He'd agree to whatever John and Isobel had in mind, he had no other choice. It didn't make him feel particularly strong or brave, but he couldn't the hero. Not now.

"The thing is: we need a werewolf," John said. "A werewolf bite is lethal to vampires and we want to assassinate one. All we ask of you that on the night of the full moon in a month that you'll show up and bite our enemy. That is all. It is dangerous task, perhaps even deadly, but you don't have another choice – unless you want your love to die." He smiled almost sweetly to Sarah who shuddered.

Tyler wondered if he could kill again. The first time had been bad enough and he still dreamt nightmares about his victim who had suffered such a cruel fate. It would tear him apart to kill another person, even if a vampire. His hand rummaged in his pocket and he felt the soft chrysanthemum flower. All his doubts froze over into determination. He had to do this.

The things you do for love.

Isobel saw him making a decision and smiled broadly. "I see we have come to an agreement." She let go of Sarah and stood up. "We will meet again the night of the full moon." John also rose and suddenly they were out of the door and gone. Tyler felt their presence fade from his property, but he couldn't breathe out; there was no relief.

He had to kill again.

* * *

Elena tried to pull with all the strength she could muster the ropes that bound her wrists apart. She had rubbed them against a nail on the wooden wall behind her and a couple of fibers had burst. Now all she had to do was tear them apart.

With great effort she succeeded and the rope fell noiselessly to the floor. She rubbed her sore wrists but smiled inside. At least she had freed herself. Now – she rummaged in her pockets remembering pocketing the match box the day Damon had been poisoned. "Bingo!" she exclaimed loudly as she found it. Without hesitation she lit match and illuminated her surroundings.

As the flame quickly ate up the stick, she could only see a brief glimpse of a molding wall before she was drowned in inky darkness again. Again she lit a match and that's when she saw the staircase.

What she had mistaken for a broom cupboard was actually a narrow corridor, partially blocked by a large wardrobe. Behind the wardrobe she could see steps leading, down, down into nothingness.

If she held her breath she realized she could squeeze through the gap between the wardrobe and the wall and thereby get to the stairs. Doing so, she came out on the other side in one piece.

As she lit a match again she saw the darkness which the stairs led to and she wasn't afraid of the dark, but for some reason the sight made her feel paralyzed. She still had to do it, and that fast.

Carefully she went down the stairs.

The things you do for love.

* * *

**Heroic Elena. Hopefully she acts the valiant knight and saves Damon from his prison in the tower and slays the dragon of course.**

**I will update as soon as I can, and I'll try to do it as regularly as before too, but please don't hate me if one or two days go without me writing anything.**

**By the way I have discovered the delight in listening to Florence and The Machine. I hope you have or will too ;)**

**Stay alert.**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**

**P.S You probably remember Sarah from the show (played by Maiarah Walsh). Ironically, she was the one Tyler killed.**


	17. MORPHINE

**Ah, I'm so happy the weekend has arrived. No I can finally relax. Listen to Klaviersonate nr. 8, light a candle, eat a kiwi or chips. We all have our ways of enjoying our weekends and I hope you all have a lovely one.**

**(Wild is the wind by Cat Power is a relatively unknown song but give it a chance and listen to it, it's actually very pretty in a darker, sad kind of way)**

**And thank you all who comment and follow, you don't know how happy you make me! I want to smile like that cat from Alice in Wonderland, Cheshire.**

**MORPHINE**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

He was back in the cell with Stefan leaned against the wall, and for the first time since becoming a vampire, he felt cold. It was remarkable what an impact Elena made on him. She was warmth that he so desperately needed. In this eternal winter she made him feel home.

"Damon," Stefan suddenly said and as Damon turned round he saw his brother look straight at him. Uncertainty rushed through him. He didn't know whether to hate or love his brother; he still wasn't sure whether his brother had anything to do with what Katherine did to him or not. It hurt to not be able to trust his brother.

"They're sending me out soon to catch Katherine," Stefan continued, and his voice was no longer as sharp as it had been, making Damon even more confused. "And I need to tell you something, something very important. In case… _in case I don't come back_."

Damon felt a sharp pang in his heart, and tried to ignore it.

Stefan stood up, looking brave and fearless. His eyes were unwaveringly locked with Damon's. Damon noticed they had become lighter, less cold.

"What I did to you – what I _let happen _to you, no one should do to his brother," Stefan began softly. "I don't know… I was lost, I was blinded by my childish love for Katherine – of course these aren't excuses for what I did, but I want you to know _why _I did it. And especially after mom and dad died, I went into a state of delirium. I started hating the world a little, and thereby I hated you." Stefan's face contorted in pain. "I shouldn't have let all this mess happen to you, you were a musician with sky-wide dreams and hopes for the future, and in ignorance I let it all be destroyed. I will never be able to forgive myself, and I don't expect you to either. But even though I'm not your brother anymore, you'll always be mine. And, Damon, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Damon turned away to not show Stefan his expression. It felt like vervain was being pumped through his veins, it _burned. _Who knew it would hurt so much to feel hatred being eaten away by regret and pain and love? He punched the stone wall with his fist, letting a cloud of dust swirl to the floor. Why was this happening? _Why had this all happened?_ Damon remembered the warm, sunny past when their family had been whole. How had it shattered so fast? And he realized that his deepest inner wish was that they'd be reconciled once again. It hurt all the more to know that that would never happen.

Forgive, forget, they said. But it was like walking away from a car crash, leaving the victims to die. Damon wanted to forgive Stefan. As his soul burned, there wasn't anything else he wanted to do. But he couldn't. And Stefan understood.

"Damon," Stefan whispered. "They are due to come any minute. I need to do one last thing before we part. Please."

Slowly Damon turned round, but he didn't look at Stefan. It felt too ultimate – as if they would never see each other again and even if he couldn't forgive his brother, Damon realized he wanted him to live.

Stefan stretched out his hands and took Damon's hand in his. Damon stared hard at the dirty floor, thought of sun and soft white snow, anything else but this.

There was a metallic click as the door opened and vampires streamed in. Damon wasn't even aware of that they had come; his whole being had snapped into two.

"I couldn't have wished for a better brother," Stefan said warmly and smiled for the first time with all his heart. Damon dared to look up once and saw his brother's face. It was bright, hopeful.

Then Stefan was being pulled away by the vampires, while Damon stood there, numb and frozen. He couldn't have felt colder on the outside even with the flames eating him up. As the vampires had all left the cell again, Damon looked down on the hand Stefan had held.

Slowly, he unwound his fingers. Embedded comfortably in his pale palm, was Stefan's ring.

* * *

There were no matches left and the darkness seemed to suffocate her. She stood by the end of the stairs and in front of her gaped a big black nothing. She didn't know what to do. There was no way forward, but no way back either. Stuck in the middle. It was horrifying to say the least.

Finally she took a brave step into the unknown. When her foot felt the same stone floor, she relaxed a little and started fumbling for walls. Founding one made of rough granite, she let it guide her through the dark, simultaneously fearing what she would meet at the end.

It didn't matter if she kept her eyes closed or open, so she closed them and felt a little safer. But there was no way to fool her speeding her. To calm herself, she tried to tell herself over and over again that what she did was for those she loved. She could have stayed in the corridor, could have waited obediently for her own death, but deep inside her was a fighting spirit that couldn't let neither her nor Jeremy or Damon die. Even if she wouldn't succeed, she would have at least _tried_.

Gradually, as she went on and on in this forever darkness, she became aware of distant noise. It was so familiar, a sound she had heard so many times before, and as she came closer she realized it was the crackling of fire. Not soon afterwards, light started to bounce off the walls and she saw that she was walking through a tunnel. The ground was surprisingly clean, free from litter and rats.

The source of light were torches lined on the walls of the tunnel. She pulled one loose and felt it's heat warm her. Just in case. It was much more pleasant to travel with illumination and she almost relaxed. In this quiet, any noise would be heard quickly and she would have plenty of time to hide.

At last the tunnel widened into a room or cave so vast that not even her torch could light it up. And the ground changed as well. Elena found that she was suddenly walking on polished marble like that in the hallway of the mansion, but this marble was white, making it glow mysteriously in the fire-light.

And as she went further over the marble floor with no ceiling or walls to be seen above and around her, she suddenly spotted a darker spot on the white. Coming closer, she saw it was scarlet. Blood, was her first thought and she felt her heart beat faster. But when she knelt and touched the red, she realized it wasn't blood at all, but a petal of a rose.

Strange. A petal was one of the last things she expected to find in such a remote place. But as she shone with the torch around her she realized the whole floor was littered with petals. There was no whole rose, just these spots of red, like blood. It was a beautiful but eerie sight.

The vast room did end. Suddenly she stood in front of a raised surface, like a stage with a block of marble on it. The block was strewn with so many roses that the marble nearly disappeared under the red. Noiselessly she heaved herself up on the stage and neared the block. With a churn of her stomach she realized it was an alter.

Something was twisted in this place, dark. The air was thick of it and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get out of here. She began to run.

Her feet slipped on the floor and she fell, landing uncomfortably on her wrist that shot pain through her arm. The torch went out and she drowned in the dark. She could hear her ragged breathing, even her heartbeat. She didn't even bother to get to her feet: where would she go? She wanted to call on Damon, but he was probably too far away and couldn't come running to help her either. From this situation, she had to get out _alone_.

Although she wasn't alone.

Suddenly, not too far away from her, a light flamed up. A hand was holding a torch up, but that was all she saw.

She couldn't breathe, didn't have enough courage. Fear suddenly got a whole new meaning. The torch and the hand started to near her.

She closed her eyes.

* * *

Jeremy awoke.

The world was blurry, frayed at the edges. He groaned and his fingers automatically reached to touch his neck which seemed swollen and sore. Like reminiscing a horrible nightmare, he remembered the pale woman biting him. He had read stories, heard the tales, and it could only mean one thing – she had been a vampire. It was terrifying to know that all those old stories about monsters meant to scare children were actually true. It was even worse to find out that he was in an even worse situation than before when he had been sick, that awful slow time.

Slowly, he sat up and looked around. He was in a large room with nothing in it but the sofa he lay on. The windows all showed the grey weather outside. One of them was broken and sparkling shards lay on the floor. He stumbled to them, still feeling weak, and picked one up. He felt like it would come to use later, if that vampire would come back and want to bite him again.

Suddenly the door opened with a slam and the vampire strode in, followed by a man Jeremy didn't recognize. He was so surprised that he nearly fell over again, but managed to brace himself on the wall before anything could happen.

With startling speed the couple strode towards him, but fortunately stopped about a meter in front of him. He clutched his neck, defended it, so that they wouldn't do further damage. But it soon became clear that it wasn't him they were here for.

Jeremy suddenly remembered Elena. What had happened at home. An infinite madness came over him as he realized she wasn't here. "What did you do to her?" he asked hoarsely, his voice not bearing. What made everything worse was the sudden nausea that came over him. Perhaps he shouldn't have stood up so fast.

The vampire looked thunderous and the man beside her as well. They both grimaced and looked at Jeremy with naked hatred.

"Where is she?" the woman demanded.

Jeremy felt his heart sink even lower. Not even these monsters knew where Elena was. His eyes darted to the broken window. Could it be? Could she have jumped out? The mere possibility made his head hurt. She couldn't have done that to him, could she? She wouldn't just leave him here, in the dark.

The man suddenly stepped forward and Jeremy flattened himself against the wall in a weak attempt to get away but the vampire didn't hesitate, grabbed him roughly by the arm and started pulling him towards the door. Jeremy tried to fight him off, but failed.

There was only one other choice left. In an unusually quick movement he brought out the glass shard from his pocket and slashed it across the man's face. A line of blood appeared and then disappeared as quickly.

It had _healed_.

Jeremy felt like he had swallowed ice. The man hissed and started pulling him towards the door again. All options of escape ran out into the sand.

But before they managed to leave the room, the woman stepped in front of Jeremy. "Don't do anything to us again, Jeremy," she is quietly. "I won't kill you. But I'll make you suffer for it."

Then her face lit up.

"Now let's get your sister."

* * *

**Again I'm cruelly letting you hang. **

**But I promise it will make up for it later ;)**

**I'm a little nervous about how I'll introduce Klaus to Let Me Sing A Song For You. Even thought I've not seen him in the show yet (but I am waiting) and simply read about him in the books, I've grown quite a respect for him. Being the oldest vampire in his history is cool.**

**And just one little question: somehow Narnia came up in mind today. Have any of you read those series? I loved them when I was younger. Especially the end, so… epic. Anyway, just wanted to say that.**

**Goodnight and goodbye,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	18. RUNNING FOR A REASON

I'm sorry I haven't updated over the week-end, but I _have_ made it up to you with this glorious chapter that is even longer than the average for once. Is it just me or does it seem that time is going slower?

**Anyway, I've realized it's "only" 2 weeks and 4 days to the return of TVD. I am exited and hope Joseph Morgan will make his appearance as Klaus soon enough ;)**

**As always, I give my dearest thanks to those who comment and follow. Where would this story be without you?**

**Now, enjoy:**

**RUNNING FOR A REASON**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters except Anastasia, Agnes and Santiago)**

As the flickering light neared through darkness, she braced herself. She was shaking so hard, it was difficult to steady herself, but she managed it. Better to meet death face-on, she thought. She would not show she was afraid.

To calm herself she seeped in the dark air into her lungs. It was dusty and raw, but cold and sobering. It was strange to die in darkness, for some reason. She sighed.

The light wasn't far away at all now. Elena stared at the shape whose outlines sharpened until she could see the man that suddenly stood before her. He smiled.

He wasn't a vampire, she could tell that at once; his skin was tanned and weather-beaten from having been in the sun for long periods of time, his dark eyes seemed but sharp and cruel. He was human.

It seemed almost too good to be true. Elena nearly laughed out loud with relief, instead she composed herself and looked soberly at the man, who suddenly stretched out a hand. Hesitantly she took it. It was warm, like a rock that has been out in the sun for long. Definitely human. Although it was strange to shake his hand, as if they weren't in a dark cave but on a crowded street buzzing with life.

"My name is Santiago," the man said. His eyes glittered in the torchlight. "And you must be Elena."

Elena nodded slowly. The relief quickly faded, and was replaced by something... else. Perhaps the man was human, but there was something wrong about him also. Something she couldn't put her finger on.

As she subtly as she could, she took a step backwards, her body telling her to run, run, RUN, but the moment she did so, she knew it was too late.

"Running is really the last thing you want to be doing right now."

He took a step towards her.

* * *

Damon paced his cell about, the blood pounding in his ears. He felt like panther in a cage, with lithe legs meant for running, but with no room for it.

In his hand he held Stefan's ring and from time to time he squeezed it so that the sharp metal cut into his skin in a painful way. He couldn't bring himself to put it on. If he was right with his suspicions, then Stefan had just said goodbye. And Damon wanted to have a chance to give the ring back, even if he couldn't forgive his brother.

At last the door to the cell opened and Elijah strode in. Damon breathed out with relief at the sight of him. It seemed strange that just two days ago, he had attempted to kill him.

"So?" Elijah asked him, with an ill-disguised look of boredom on his face, as if this whole ordeal had already lost its thrill. But at least he listened.

Damon opened his fist and revealed the ring lying embedded in his palm. "You sent Stefan to get Katherine, didn't you? Well, he gave me this. Meaning he's not planning on returning – _meaning_ that he's going to kill her."

Elijah's head snapped up. He looked sharply at Damon, and for the first time Damon saw _fear_ in his unmoving eyes. "Are you sure?"

Damon looked down on the ring, drew his finger along the cold metal. Before Stefan had been taken away, Damon had seen that there was something _different _about him. Something brighter. The darkness had eased its way out of his brother's eyes and left the goodness that had been there initially.

"I'm sure."

Elijah rubbed his knuckles. "We have to stop him before he does that. Without Katherine Klaus won't do whatever he's coming here to do and he'll kill me and all the other vampires and humans, including Elena."

Damon thought more about that Katherine would kill Stefan before he even managed to raise a stake, but he nodded, and he realized that a lot of responsibility weighed him down. If Stefan actually succeeded in killing Katherine it would trigger a chain of reactions that would have a bad end for everyone.

He had to find Stefan.

"You have to let me go stop him before it's too late," Damon said to Elijah. "I promise to come back, I can't leave anyway as long as Elena is here."

Elijah frowned and thought hard but came up with no better solution. "All right. Follow me."

They headed for the door, behind which stood two vampire guards. Elijah opened it and killed the two vampires without much effort, snapping their necks. Damon stepped over the bodies with unease that always came when things had to do with murder. But this wasn't a time for crying over vampires, he had to hurry and save a lot of people's lives.

_Stefan_, he thought as he ran with Elijah through the corridor_, why do you always do stupid things when you're good? When you're evil at least you think better_.

He knew that if he failed this mission, there would be no way to stop Klaus. Damon had never seen him, never met him, but already the thought of him brought up a strange mix of feelings. Fear, anger but also… respect. The man was doubtlessly very strong and very quick and he could kill even Elijah in a second, being as old as he was. It would almost be pity to kill him, like destroying a valuable historical artifact, but it would have to be done.

Luckily they didn't meet upon any other vampires as they headed outside, as Damon was tired of walking over corpses. They sped through the entrance hall and through the door into the grey snowstorm outside.

It snowed so densely, so madly, that Damon could barely see Paris in front of him, the heap of shapes and lights. Somewhere out there was his brother with a determined heart and a stake in his hand. Despite the trouble he had stirred up, Damon couldn't have been prouder over his little brother. He was finally letting the past go.

Elijah stopped by the gates that surrounded the mansion property. He looked like a ghost in the whirl of snow, his skin matching the white color. "Go now. Get him before it's too late."

And Damon ran. He cut through the snow, ran with all the speed and strength he could muster. The world disappeared into a blurry nothing around him. He was a hawk that had spotted its prey and would stop at nothing to get it.

He had never run so fast before, but now he realized why. Because now, he had something to run for.

In moments he had reached the suburbs. He was so fast the people barely saw him, as if he was a shooting star.

As he tore through the giant maze of streets, he breathed in enough air to make his lungs explode and tried to distinguish Stefan's scent between all the others scents. First, there was nothing. Then a familiar smell.

He gave a shout of triumph. He had found it! Stefan was heading for the Opera House of Paris. Just barely could he also detect Katherine, who strangely enough smelled like green apples.

Changing his course, he ran towards the Opera House and was there in minutes. It was an impressive building with pillars, arched doorways and two golden angels flanking the roof. Not caring about how he looked in dusty, filthy clothes he stormed inside.

It seemed as if the whole population of Paris had come out this evening to see an opera performance. It was warm inside, the air thick with the smell of _blood_. For a moment he lost focus, and stood between the bodies, felt their warmth and appeal. He could easily kill them subtly, just one bite… No! He shook the thought out of his mind. Not a very good time for becoming a monster anyway.

Rushing up the stairs, he stormed into room after room searching after Stefan.

At last he reached a balcony that overlooked the scene which was currently draped in red. Underneath sat the orchestra and practiced the music for tonight.

He saw them. Stefan, a stake in his hand was nearing a woman in a blue dress whose dark, curly hair fell over her shoulders. Katherine.

There was no time for hesitation. He moved forward. Then –

* * *

As Santiago raised his hand, Elena wanted to scream but no noise came out. She was as if frozen.

He let the hand fall over her shoulder, held it with his strong, warm fingers.

She watched in horror as he opened his mouth and began to chant. Words of a language she didn't know, couldn't possibly understand. The bile rose in her throat and her heart thudded against her ribs, searching for a way out.

Then a very odd thing happened. It felt as if she had fallen into a pool of syrup. Her movements felt sluggish and craved too much of an effort. Even her heart seemed to beat faster.

A bubble of panic popped in her, but that was it.

* * *

Damon hurried as fast as he could to get to Stefan and Katherine, but he found that he couldn't even move an inch. Strange. As if he was walking through syrup. Stefan raised the stake, but very slowly, so slowly that Katherine had time to turn around and see him. She was smiling.

He wanted to stop this, but he couldn't move, neither could Stefan, nor Katherine. They were all frozen.

His mind started slipping away, as if he was falling asleep. _No_.

Then time stopped entirely.

* * *

**Any guesses on who Santiago is? I promise he has to do something with Klaus… whose arrival we are coming closer to every second.**

**Anyway, the next chapters before END OF PART ONE will be quite intense. Prepare yourselves.**

**As inspiration for this chapter I listened to the score of Black Swan, the movie that actually scared me. It's a beautiful and haunting mix of Clint Mansell's orchestral music and Tjaikovsky's.**

**May the force be with you! (Nah, just joking :D)**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	19. GREATEST HITS

First of all, thank you those who comment and follow, it's brilliant how happy you make me even if I have a crappy day.

**This chapter is dedicated to Caroline and Alaric Saltzman, I felt that their story needed to be told before the "_grand finale" _so that you'd feel a little empathy ;)**

**And, hey, guys: it's not so far until the return of TVD, at all. If you're waiting for something good, you never have to wait too long. And I've heard that _Klaus_ will make his appearance the 21st, basically two episodes after _Know Thy Enemy_.**

**Oh, and I've re-watched the part where Damon says he loves Elena, and my heart melted.**

**Enjoy:**

**GREATEST HITS**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters, except Agnes, Santiago and Anastasia)**

Few years ago:

They met a sunny day. Caroline was in the east wing of a small hospital in London, tending to patients with tuberculosis, giving them food and water and sometimes chatting to them. It was a nice day; sun fell through the wide windows, illuminating the dust. She had more than once thought of going to Cornwall by train and spending a couple of days there on the beaches, looking out over the ocean, but it felt a little stupid to go alone. Besides, she felt bad about going on a holiday when most of her patients could barely take a walk in the hospital courtyard and nearly all of them couldn't afford a big trip anyway.

So she stayed in the hospital, sometimes looking out of the windows and admiring the brilliant day outside, her thoughts running all over the place.

"Nurse Forbes? Excuse me?"

She turned around and saw a doctor look back at her, looking a little lost. Feeling guilty about daydreaming, she hurried to him and offered her help. He seemed younger than the other doctors, and strangely he had neither a beard nor a moustache. She wondered why she had never seen him before. "How can I help you?"

"I need you to talk to a patient for me. I need her to tell me how she feels, but she insists on talking only to you. Do you know her? Old woman, Mrs. Bennett, I think, suffers from arthritis."

"Oh, yes, let's talk to her right away," Caroline replied enthusiastically. Mrs. Bennett was a nice old woman, a little insane perhaps, always rambling about witches and spells and grimoires, but still lovely. The doctor smiled nervously and together they left the east wing and walked through the corridors. Caroline felt weirdly anxious in the company of the doctor.

"Are you new, doctor? Haven't seen you around," she said, trying to sound sober.

"Yes, I'm just out of the university. I'm Dr. Saltzman." To her surprise, he reached out a hand. Slowly but much willingly she held out hers too.

And something clicked.

* * *

A year ago:

The rain crashed down on the window of the train, washed the French landscape grey. Caroline felt tired and cold, they had journeyed for so long already, all she wanted was to sleep in a soft, warm bed, but it was a bit until they arrived in Alaric's new clinic and home.

He sat beside, deeply buried in an anatomy book. A couple of times he'd look up and give her a brief smile of reassurance, fueling her further to travel across the country, away from home. It was funny what an influence he had on her. It sounded stupid, but he made her feel safe. And in return she empowered him to do what he loved – help other people. If a patient would die, she would help him through the pain and tell him to continue being a doctor, taking that emotional risk, because _it was worth it_.

It was also proof of her affection that she followed him across the sea to France to open a private clinic for patients with low or no income at all. She had left all her family behind, but it hadn't been for nothing.

Subtly, as to not disturb his reading, she leant her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. He didn't say anything, but she could sense his smile. So even in the rain and grey, she felt all right.

He was like a bit of home that you could fold and put into your pocket.

* * *

11 months ago:

It was night, Caroline couldn't sleep. Outside the Paris night sounded, too loud for her ears after growing up in the gentle country-side. Sighing, she slipped out from between the sheets, put on her slippers and left her room.

The house was exciting during the night. As if there was electricity in the air that she could feel and breathe in. Apart from that, the house smelled of new color and wood, having been built only a couple of months before their arrival. It felt good to live in a new house, writing a story on a _blank _sheet of paper.

She went downstairs and headed for the kitchen to get herself a glass of water, when light streaming out of a half-open door caught her attention. It was probably Alaric working late, but for some reason it didn't feel that way. Quietly, she neared the door and stepped inside.

Alaric's office was neatly clean and organized and smelt of chemicals. It was feebly illuminated tonight by a fire in fireplace that made the shadows dance on the walls. Alaric sat before it, sunken in an arm-chair, a glass of brandy in his hand. He was still, but his eyes were wide open.

"Alaric," she sighed and removed the brandy glass from his hand. It felt wrong to see the doctor drink alcohol, as if seeing a king rob someone's home.

Then she sat down in front of him. He looked blankly past her, deeply caught in memories. There was something else in his hand, so small that he concealed it perfectly with his fingers. But she knew it was there.

"What's the matter?" she asked, worry like a pang in her chest. It hurt to know that things weren't as she had thought they were. But of course it was naïve of her to have built up a reality where there was only happiness – perhaps she had done it because she was so afraid of her life breaking into pieces around her.

Alaric just shook his head.

She took his hand. "_Talk to me._"

"What should I say?" He looked at her and she saw the real width of his grief. "I don't know what to say anymore, Caroline. Isobel…"

Oh.

Caroline chewed her lip. Isobel. Alaric had told her about his former wife who had disappeared suddenly. Even if she would never say it aloud to him, she knew that Isobel hadn't just "disappeared". She had left Alaric.

"Forget her," she said, a little harsher than she intended to, making Alaric wince.

Alaric looked away. "I can't."

"Of course you can, you just have to find the strength for it. And if you can't do it for your own sake – do it for me."

Slowly, he smiled.

* * *

Present:

Caroline rushed into the living room, flushed, exited, brimming with delight. "Alaric, I have wonderful news: I think I'm..-"

She stopped.

Alaric wasn't alone in the room. It was filled with a dozen men and women, all in dark clothes as if they had all just attended a funeral. She knew immediately they weren't patients and for some reason the sight of them made her heart skip a beat.

Alaric looked forlorn where he sat in the sofa, surrounded by these strangers. At Caroline's arrival he looked up at her and she was surprised to see a look of sadness on his face. He mouth the words: _I'm sorry_.

She suddenly didn't want to be here at all, but one of the women stepped behind her and blocked the way out into the hall. Fear and confusion clogged her airways.

Mustering all her courage of which there wasn't much, she asked: "Excuse me, we haven't met. Who... who are you exactly?"

"It doesn't matter who we are," a woman with white-blonde hair and cold eyes said. Caroline shivered. "It just matters who _you _are."

In all her fear, that struck Caroline as something very bizarre to say to a stranger. She looked closely at the men and women standing all around the living room, trying to find a familiar treat, without luck.

The white-blonde woman clapped her hands in delight and smiled. "Oh, this is all going to so _perfect_. He's going to love it."

Before anyone could stop her Caroline hurried to Alaric and sat down next to him in the sofa. To feel a little safer and not so vulnerable and alone. She took his hand. Took a deep breath. Whatever was happening, they'd go through it together.

Then something very interesting and equally frightening happened. Everything seemed to move slower, _time _seemed to move slower. Caroline found that all her movements were painfully drawn out and when she turned her head to look at the clock it took quite some time.

The clock wasn't moving anymore. The pendulum swung ever so slowly until it stopped. Unable to understand how that had happened, she stared at, as if her gaze would make it move. It didn't.

Her heart beat slow and with great effort in her chest. Such a strange feeling… as if she was going to sleep. She closed her eyes.

It stopped.

* * *

**I know you're probably annoyed over having to read this instead of what happened to Damon and Elena and Stefan, but I felt it was necessary, a sort of sweet next-to-last thing. Besides, it will be important later in the story.**

**I've realized that music is a very important part of writing, you get inspired and fueled to write on. It's brilliant, so I'm going to share with you a song I just found last week:**

**New soul – Yael Naïm. Give it a chance ;)**

**I hope you all have a lovely evening,**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	20. WELCOME TO THE FUNERAL PT1

**I'm so sorry I've stalled with writing, three days is a lot of time after all, but I've had a LOT to do, it makes me sound like a hypocrite, but it's true, I'm sorry. Anyway, as a comfort this chapter is longer and so will the next be.**

**My biggest thanks to those who comment and follow, you all deserve a thumbs up and a _like _on Facebook.**

**So here it is:**

**WELCOME TO THE FUNERAL PT.1**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters, except Anastasia, Agnes and Santiago, yet)**

One month later:

The sound of her own heart woke Elena up. She blinked, breathed. It felt as if she had awakened from a coma, or even death. Every movement she made seemed new and freshly discovered.

Impossible.

The cold stone floor that she lay on made her back ache, so slowly she sat up, stretched out her stiff limbs. Tried to remember what had happened before the _nothing _that came rolling over her. Brief memories flickered before her eyes, nothing caught. She saw a face before her eyes, torchlight, a name… then there was nothing, as if she had fallen asleep right that moment. In a book there would have been a blank page between then and now.

She brushed the dust off her silk dress and stood up, but froze again. Silk dress? That was not what she had been wearing, so much did she remember. Looking down, she saw that she was wearing a whirl of scarlet fabric that went even past her ankles.

The strange thing was that she at all could see it. In the darkness, there was a beam of light shining right at her. But when she looked for the source, she found none. Rubbing her temple, she groaned quietly. Nothing made sense. The pieces just didn't fit. How couldn't she remember the things that had happened before the… blackout? From where shone the light? Why was she wearing a red dress?

Since there was no point in standing, she slumped down on the floor again, suddenly struck by sadness. She was all alone here, and things were happening that she couldn't explain. And both Damon and Jeremy were so far away, out of reach.

"Are you ready, Elena?" whispered a voice, chilling the back of her neck.

She stiffened and couldn't breathe. Hoarse laughter echoed around in the darkness, ghastly, as if from a horror tale.

Then someone stepped into the beam of light. A man. Elena stared at him, recognition rolling over her in waves. It was _him_, the one whose face she had seen before the blackout. She knew who he was, what he had done, but his name kept slipping her. It didn't matter anyway.

He took hold of her hand and pulled her upright. She tried to rip herself free, but his fingers dug into her wrist a painful way. "Ignis," he said quietly and suddenly the whole cave was lit up by fire that ran along the walls. She could see the marble floor again, like ice, and the stage with the altar. The beam that had shone on her previously was gone though, and so were the roses that Elena only vaguely remembered. But there was no more darkness, except the ceiling that remained unseen.

The man started dragging Elena towards the altar. In desperation she tried to think of something that would that distract him – something told her he had no good intentions by dragging her to the stage. "How did you do that… that with the fire?" she managed to whimper, overcome by fear.

The man looked at her and his eyes glowed. "I'm a magician, baby!" He didn't stop though which made her even more desperate.

"What… what are you going to do with me?" Now the fear switched to full-blown panic. It intensified when she saw the man bring something sharp and shiny out of his pocket. A dagger. As bad as the world could be sometimes, she wasn't ready to leave it yet.

"Don't worry, Elena," the man said softly. "Something noble is going to be done to you. You… _you_ are going to be sacrificed for a better sake. This is why you were born, what you are meant for, all roads lead to this!"

They were at the stage. The man climbed it up and then pulled her up beside him. The altar stood before them, a great block of marble, so menacing in its simplicity. The magician brought out a length of rope from his pocket and easily ignoring Elena's struggle, tied it around her wrists.

"Please, don't.."

He hauled her up on the altar so that she lay splayed over the cold stone and mumbled something else. And no matter how hard she tried she couldn't push herself off the altar. It was as if glass walls sprang up from the marble and shut her in.

There was no way to escape.

* * *

Damon blinked.

It felt like something had _shifted_, but the syrupy feeling was gone. He realized he could move smoothly again. No time to wonder what that all had been about, he ran at Stefan who had raised his stake at the smiling Katherine.

A second that would change everything.

He slammed into Stefan and they both crashed to the floor. The stake very narrowly missed Damon's own chest but he didn't think about that – he had succeeded! At least one thing had gone well in all this misery.

Now for Katherine. Quickly he jumped away from the dazed Stefan and ran at the vampire who stared with narrowed eyes at them. Black veins popped out underneath her eyes and she bared her fangs in a menacing growl. _Bring it on_, the look said.

She was stronger than him but he knew that he had to do it. For Elena. And to bring Klaus out of the world.

As he ran towards collision, he slipped the vervain-needle out of his pocket. It would sedate her and then he could bring her back to Elijah's mansion. If everything went well.

He grabbed her by the waist and pinned her against the wall. But when he was supposed to prick her with the needle, he fumbled, and she used the time to bite him in the shoulder. Hard. It felt like glowing razors had gone through his skin. He stared at her in disbelief. That she was capable of such primitive behavior! She stared back defiantly, looking so different from Elena that moment with her lips colored with _his _blood.

Before he was able to do anything else she gave him a hard shove that sent him flying. He collided with a chair and it broke with a crash under his spine. But he was more focused on Katherine who prepared to leap at him. And kill.

Though he was swifter with the needle. Tearing himself up from the ground, he rushed to her and plunged the needle deep into her neck.

She froze, and before her eyes glazed over, they narrowed maliciously, promising revenge. Then she crumpled to the ground. He caught her and held up her body, filling his lungs with that sharp tang of green apples. It was almost too good to believe that he now held her in her arms. Hopefully, the plan would continue to go as smoothly, but for some reason he doubted it.

"What's going on, Damon?" Stefan asked, slowly rising from the floor, the stake lying forgotten by his feet. "What are you doing with her?"

"Long story. Look, just follow me back to Elijah."

Stefan's eyes turned dark. "I don't think I should go back. Damon, I have thought… and I realize that maybe it's time for me to move on, if you understand?"

Damon understood, and a chill spread in his stomach. But he decided to play dumb. "We haven't got time for your sentimental thinking, Stefan, please just follow me back. And help me carry her."

Stefan opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and hurried to help Damon with carrying Katherine. They prepared themselves for a run – that way they'd zoom through Paris unnoticed, it would look a little strange with two men – one with a torn, bloody shoulder – carrying an unconscious woman.

So they ran.

* * *

Jeremy could only hear the footsteps of the others as they headed through the dark tunnel. But somehow the quiet was even more menacing, it pressed against the ears and hid whatever wanted to hide in the dark.

He had no idea where they were going and what awaited them at the end of the tunnel. The only thing he _knew _was that they were going to find his sister. He didn't know what to feel about that. A part of him was happy they'd be reunited, a part of him was scared of what the outcome of that would be. These creatures, vampires, obviously had something sinister in mind and he didn't want to know what it was _at all_.

Too suddenly, the tunnel widened and Jeremy could see light up ahead, the flickering light of fire. He felt his body tense, his heart strings strain. During the sickness, he'd lost his faith, but now he prayed. Prayed that whatever he was heading to wouldn't be so grim. That there'd be at least a prospect of escape.

The darkness ceased as they light of the fire grew and Jeremy could see they were in an enormous cave, so big that he could not even see the ceiling. The ground was of white marble, so shiny he could make out his reflection as a dark smudge.

Up ahead there was a stage with a block of marble on it, and on this block lay an unmoving shape.

He froze as he recognized Elena.

* * *

"This way," Damon shouted to Stefan. They burst through the doors and sped down a set of stairs that disappeared into darkness. He hoped with all his might that it was the right way. It would just be so miserable if everything started going wrong again.

They had run for quite a while now and Damon felt fatigue beat at every inch of him. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but he made himself go on. What sort of person would let his love die just because he was tired?

The deeper they went, the moister and more raw the air got. It made him think with a shudder of coffins and earth and worms, a place where he was actually supposed to be.

Rushing through a tunnel to the unknown, Damon could only think of failing. What would a life be without Elena, that extra ingredient? It was funny how she had come to mean so much to him. But after all, _she _had been the one to pull him up when he'd been deeply, deeply buried in his own abyss.

They reached the end of the tunnel and ran into a cave. It seemed familiar to Damon, but he couldn't place it. Besides, he had more important things to think about.

They were not alone. In the farthermost corner of the cave, before a stage, stood the cluster of vampires, holding a teenager Damon suspected was Elena's brother. And on the stage, on an altar of marble, lay… Elena. He stopped as he saw her, stomach churning. For one painfully long second he thought he had failed. Then he snapped out of it.

Elijah broke free of the cluster and walked towards them. Before long he stood before Damon and Stefan and the still unconscious Katherine, and observed them with a weary gaze. Damon had the impression he was disappointed. That he had somehow hoped they wouldn't make it. And in that moment Damon realized one crucial thing: Elijah – despite the betrayal – still believed in the friendship between him and Klaus. Hopefully that wouldn't be a problem.

The corner of Elijah's mouth turned when he saw Katherine, but that was all. No enthusiasm.

"He's coming any minute now."

A tense silence fell over the cave. Damon's eyes flickered over to Elena where she lay on the altar. He couldn't really see, but he felt she was looking at him too. _I'm going to get you out of here_, he thought. That'd be an oath.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke the silence and every person in the cave, human and vampire, stiffened. Everyone suddenly brimmed with fear.

And into the aura of light the fire gave, a man stepped out of the shadows.

Klaus.

* * *

**Can't stop thinking about how Klaus will appear in Vampire Diaries! I mean, is it going to be all dramatic or more suspenseful-like?**

**Anyway, the title is inspired by the song _The Funeral_ – _Band of Horses_ that I happened to fall in love with a couple of months back. The song makes me melancholy and happy simultaneously _and _it reminds of 127 hours and James Franco and faith.**

**Leave a comment and I'll be happy!**

**Good evening and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	21. WELCOME TO THE FUNERAL PT2

**Only a week and four days until the return of TVD, yay! Until then we can see what will unfold in _this _story. Just for information, in this story Klaus looks like Joseph Morgan so that everything will fit.**

**Oh, I do hope that you'll not hate me for this chapter. It's violent, it's dark and it's cruel, but it's also a vital aspect of the story and after you read it everything will be explained, don't worry.**

**Find a fitting piece of music and go ahead ;)**

**And thank you those who comment and follow, it's honor to write for you.**

**WELCOME TO THE FUNERAL PT. 2**

**

* * *

**

**(I own none of the characters, except Santiago)**

Klaus.

There was something majestic about him, the way he moved, the way he walked. He wore a simple black coat, his hands stuck in the pockets, but he _shone _with authority. Most of all, he was a strange mixture of innocence and evil.

Damon knew that everyone, him included, was as if paralyzed. As old as he was, Klaus could be impossibly strong and quick. Glancing towards Elena, Damon's heart clenched. If things came to a fight, the odds were stacked against them. It didn't help that Elijah's supposed friends worshipped and feared Klaus simultaneously, like some people would worship a god.

It made everything worse.

For a moment, Klaus just stood silently and observed them all with a nonchalant smile and blue eyes.

The anticipation seemed to crackle in the air.

That moment Katherine chose to wake up. Damon winced as she groaned quietly and moved in his arms. This could be what would kill them all. But Klaus looked with mere curiosity at her as she wriggled free of Damon's grip and rubbed her neck where he had stuck her with the needle. She was about to say something when she saw Klaus.

"_You_."

The color drained from her face. With bottomless horror she stared at him and Damon realized they knew each other. Again, his stomach churned violently. Things weren't going at all how he had planned. Of course it had been so _naïve _of him to think that things would end happily. They never did.

"Katherine," Klaus said softly. His voice was quiet but everyone in the cave heard it, their hearts beating faster. Damon glanced at Elijah who looked like a corpse seeing his old friend.

Katherine's breathing was asthmatic. In desperation she grabbed at Damon's arm, tried to make him shield her. "Get me away from him… Damon, please. I'm sorry for whatever I did, Damon. Just don't… don't let him do anything to me."

Klaus laughed. "As if he can do anything. As if anyone can." His smile vanished and he gave every soul in the cave a razor-sharp look. "If anyone tries something ugly I _promise_ that I won't let not _one _come out of this place alive. I've survived many assassinations throughout my life, and don't think that _you _will be able to take me on."

Damon saw Elijah clench his fists and felt a surge of elation. Just because Klaus was practically invincible, it didn't mean that they still didn't have a chance, no matter how tiny it was. If they wanted to, they could do it. He looked at Elena. He wanted it. They both deserved a better future.

"Katherine, come to me now," Klaus said almost longingly and reached out his arms towards the cowering vampire. Damon let his heart turn cold and pushed Katherine towards him, ignoring the shattered glance Katherine gave him. It had to be done. Besides, she deserved it after all the lives she had killed and destroyed. It was time for her to stop playing God and be crushed herself instead.

Klaus held her gently in his arms, it looked almost like a sign of a warmth and affection. Then Klaus looked straight at Elijah. "Where's the doppelganger," he said coldly.

A muscle in Elijah's jaw worked, but he pointed to the altar.

Elena. Damon felt the blood pounding in his ears. He wanted to move, but he was rooted to the ground. He was scared. And in that moment he saw what bound him to Elena. If someone cut those ribbons, neither of them could live.

"Perfect."

Klaus moved so fast, pulling Katherine with him, that it looked as if he appeared out of thin air beside the altar. Damon could see Elena wriggling, but she couldn't do anything.

And then someone in the cluster of vampires moved. It was a human with tanned skin and dark hair and Damon had a feeling there was something wrong with him. The human threw back his arm and something silvery flew through the air to Klaus in a perfect arc.

Klaus caught the dagger by the blade.

Damon couldn't move fast enough. Suddenly time warped, the seconds flew by too quickly. He had lost the ability to run.

"Damon, don't," Elijah shouted after him, but it was too late.

Klaus brought a stake from his pocket and with lethal speed plunged it into Katherine's heart. She frowned, as if wondering what had happened. Red bloomed over her chest and her eyes were full of disappointment and sorrow as she looked at Klaus one last time. Then they glazed over. She turned grey and sank to the ground. Klaus didn't bother to look at her twice. He turned to Elena.

And Damon tried to run as fast as he had never run before, used up every ounce of his energy for this vital leap, but deep down he knew it was too late.

Too late.

Klaus brought down the knife over Elena's heart. He heard the ripping sound of knife tearing clothes and killing hearts. Something ripped in him too.

The scent of Elena's blood grew thick in the air. She took a last few gulping breaths. Then she was gone too.

Damon couldn't stand it, he kept running, even though it was too late, even though there was no way to save her any longer.

Someone blocked his way and held him back. He fought but he couldn't free himself. He could just look at Elena there on the altar, her blood coloring the marble red. Again the world came crashing down on him. He couldn't believe she was dead, that she wasn't breathing, that he'd never talk to her again. It was like being told the sun would never more rise.

Klaus brought out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the dagger clean. Damon wanted to kill him with an intensity he had never felt before. But the person holding him didn't want to let go.

"I'll come back to you later," Klaus promised to Elena and Katherine, and swiftly jumped off the stage. Damon glimpsed a torch lying not very far away. If he could just reach it. And he'd penetrate Klaus' tar-dark heart, and relieve the world of one more evil.

Klaus didn't even look at him as he went past towards Elijah, who had lost some of his former confidence. Seeing Elena and Katherine be murdered so abruptly had obviously shaken him. And shattered his plan.

"I know everything," Klaus began, putting the dagger away and bringing forth the bloody stake, twisting it in his pale fingers. "Once again you've underestimated me. I cannot be won over, can't you finally understand that, Elijah? Besides, _you _are the one who betrayed _me._ Who kills a friend, honestly?"

Elijah didn't look scared – he looked angry. Damon hadn't never seen him so angry. There was so much hatred and contempt.

"You killed my wife."

Klaus shrugged. "And now I'll kill you."

And without a word he staked Elijah, who didn't even look bothered by it. He gave Klaus one last poisonous look. "Things won't end like this."

Damon saw him fall to the floor as well. It felt like he had been stabbed too. Why was this all happening? How could success turn so quickly into a bloodbath? Everything just went wrong. And Damon wanted nothing but to end this. Or he'd be crushed by the weight over him.

He looked around for Stefan, but didn't see him anywhere. His search became more desperate, more wild, until he found his brother.

Half in the dark, half in the light, Stefan lay facedown on the floor. He wasn't moving. Someone had killed him without Damon noticing.

It was enough. He couldn't take any more of the pain, he broke apart inside and that finally gave him the kick of energy that he needed. Tearing himself free, he grabbed the torch from the floor and rushed at Klaus.

Elena's and Stefan's murderer had to die, too.

He had to.

But Klaus easily gripped the end of the torch before it slammed into his chest and ripped it from Damon. And before Damon could do anything else, Klaus used the makeshift stake on him.

It was a funny feeling. Losing all connection to the heart. He was cold for a moment, then he was warm. Everything started to blur at the edges already. As he started to sink into that beautiful darkness he could just think about where he would come.

It was OK.

He'd be reunited with Elena and Stefan and there would be no problems, no threats and absolutely no more evil. They could be together. They didn't have to end with death.

The darkness was wonderful. There was no more fear or pain.

And in the distance he could already see the Light.

* * *

The sound of her own heart woke Elena up. She blinked, breathed. It felt as if she had awakened from a coma, or even death. Every movement she made seemed new and freshly discovered.

Impossible.

The cold stone floor that she lay on made her back ache, so slowly she sat up, stretched out her stiff limbs. Tried to remember what had happened before the _nothing _that came rolling over her. Brief memories flickered before her eyes, nothing caught. She saw a face before her eyes, torchlight, a name… then there was nothing, as if she had fallen asleep right that moment. In a book there would have been a blank page between then and now.

She brushed the dust off her silk dress and stood up, but froze again. Silk dress? That was not what she had been wearing, so much did she remember. Looking down, she saw that she was wearing a whirl of scarlet fabric that went even past her ankles.

The strange thing was that she at all could see it. In the darkness, there was a beam of light shining right at her. But when she looked for the source, she found none. Rubbing her temple, she groaned quietly. Nothing made sense. The pieces just didn't fit. How couldn't she remember the things that had happened before the… blackout? From where shone the light? Why was she wearing a red dress?

Then it was as if a light bulb was illuminated in her head. She remembered everything. Klaus, Katherine being killed, dying. It all came back to her in a wave. It was like a memory, but not quite. Somehow she had ended up in the same beginning that had led her to death.

She smiled. Suddenly she knew what to do.

* * *

**Ah, puzzling to say the least.**

**I'm sorry it had to be played out so gruesomely, but don't fret – there might be hope for Damon, Stefan, Elijah yet! And the whole time-thing will be explained in the next chapter, if you haven't figured it out yourself already.**

**Yes, in this story Klaus _is _cruel and cold-hearted. I bet he will be such as in the series as well. And I SINCERELY hope that he won't be killed off immediately as all the other villains have been. He should stay around for as long as Katherine stayed round, a season or two, and make things interesting in Mystic Falls.**

**I'll update as soon as I can but tomorrow I have a full agenda so it might be that the update comes a little later.**

**Today's song – This Is Home (Switchfoot) Found it on my old mp3-player**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**

**P.S Why do I want to see a Harry Potter – movie all of a sudden?**


	22. REWIND

**Please forgive me for not updating. It was my intention to update yesterday, but when I fell asleep over the computer I realized it wasn't very realistic. So once again, my dearest apologies. I'll try to find a way to update more often and write more.**

**Thank you all who comment and follow, cheers to you!**

**Without further due, I present you, ladies and gentlemen:**

**REWIND**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters, except Santiago)**

As the light appeared in her mind, something ignited in the dark too. Elena felt calm as she saw Santiago walk towards her with the torch in his hand. She knew now.

"Congratulations!" he said as he was close enough. She saw that there was nothing wicked about him, just a kindred and very sly spirit. "You may just have saved the lives of those you love."

Elena frowned. There was one thing she didn't quite understand. "How did it all work? How did you do it? I mean, it should be impossible… no one can travel through time."

"Ah, but you didn't quite travel through time." His eyes glowed with intelligence."It's a little more complicated than that. I'll try to explain. All right, so imagine you have three sticks and you stick them into the earth so that they form a triangle. Then you also have an elastic band that you bind to the stick that's facing the other two, the top of the triangle, so that you have two ends. The first end is shorter than the other though. OK, so take the first end and stretch it towards the first of the remaining sticks. Wind it around the stick. Then take the second end of the band and do the same on the second stick. Then imagine the first end of the elastic springing back from the first stick. And that leaves the second band only."

He paused and breathed in deeply, almost getting tangled in his own explanation. "All right, so the sticks, they are like milestones in time. One event that works as a trigger. The elastic band is time itself. When you were killed by Klaus, that was what happened when the first end of the elastic was wound around the first stick. It really happened, but as the end sprang back to the original stick, you were brought back to the moment I made the trigger. So you didn't see the future, you saw more of what could have happened, a parallel reality that failed. I didn't do so much but simply let you see this other possibility so that you would know."

Elena's head was spinning. She couldn't fully grasp what Santiago was saying, but something told her it made sense, in its own twisted way.

"Thank you, for whatever you did," she said humbly, then flushed. "I'm sorry I was so naïve earlier. But I don't understand… aren't you on Klaus' side?"

Santiago smiled sharply. "I'm on no one's side. And even when I help someone it isn't for the sake of good or evil, it's to push a couple of events in motion so that there will be an end result."

Elena understood that she would never quite understand the magician, his words always mystifying her, but it didn't matter. Somehow it felt good to meet someone neutral. Not everything was black and white the whole time.

Santiago brought a pocket watch from his chest pocket and glanced at it with stress. "All right, we've talked for quite a long time. It's time for us to part. Goodbye Elena, and good luck." He took her hand and squeezed it briefly. It was still warm. But before he turned and walked away, he smiled a last time. "I've never met someone who has been so passionate about saving a life. You'll be rewarded for that."

He handed her the torch and disappeared into the darkness.

Elena looked down on her hand, opened her fingers. It lay there shining, a promise. A key. And almost simultaneously she noticed the hatch on the marble floor. It was barely visible, just a grey square on the white marble with a tiny hole for the key. Something you'd step over if you didn't look closely.

She inserted the key into the hole and turned. The hatch made a 'clicking' sound and swung open. The torchlight aiding her, she peered into the dark. There, in the gloom, were about a dozen two feet-high iron canisters. Leaning down, she opened the lid. The sharp tang was like a slap in the face.

Gasoline.

At first, she frowned. What were canisters of gasoline doing in a place like this? But it seemed as if Santiago's intelligence had infected her too, because she focused her attention at the marble.

It had to something with the marble.

Feeling neither brave, nor reckless, just scared, she pulled out one of the canisters from the hatch. Opened the lid. And taking, a deep breath, leaned the canister to the side, dousing some of the gasoline on the marble. Then she took her torch and let it touch the fluid.

Flames sprang up so quickly that she stumbled back, and nearly fell over herself in the process. Heat beat at her, and she watched in horror as the flames grew, danced with red fire. Quickly she shrugged off her coat and threw it over the fire to extinguish it or somebody would see it.

But now she knew. The marble was apparently not marble, either something else or some other strange mixture. But the most important thing was that it was _flammable_. It could ignite. There was no question about what she had to do.

It was all about timing, precision. She knew that failing would mean letting Damon and Jeremy die. So she had to do it. Sharpen her intelligence and warm up her wits. Think outside the box.

She set to work.

* * *

When she was done, she went to the stage and lay down on the cold altar, breathing raggedly. The vampires would think that Santiago had forced her to lie on it.

Her heart was on fire. This was it. She had already seen how things could go, and just because she had been given a second chance it didn't mean that things could end well. So much was hanging on the line. Life, love. Damon, Jeremy. But she was oddly thankful as well. This whole experience had showed her how much it all really meant, that it was all worth to die for.

There was a rustle of footsteps and voices as the vampires entered the cave. She lay still, barely dared to heave her chest. What she was about to do was insane. But it was necessary.

The vampires checked that she lay on the altar and then Elijah gave them a speech that Elena couldn't listen to in her excitement.

Any moment now.

Then Stefan and Damon came. Elena dared move her head just a little to look at them. They were dragging a limp shape with them.

It was Katherine.

Elena froze. So there really _was _a doppelganger. It felt very unpleasant to look at her, as if she was seeing a mirror image of herself, but darker and distorted.

But she couldn't hook herself up on that now. There were more important things to deal with. Like ending these vampires once and for all.

Now all she awaited was Klaus' arrival.

All she wanted to do was to run towards Damon, but that would break her plan into pieces. She hated that there was a risk he could die too, if things went wrong. Somehow it always felt like fate was doing whatever it could to keep them apart. Well, perhaps they weren't supposed to be together. She couldn't have cared less.

Life is too short to find out what're you supposed to do, to find what your _destiny _is. The best thing is to just live and go with whatever comes.

She turned her head a little to the side and saw a shape grow into the light, just like he had done in the other reality or whatever it had been.

Klaus.

Her heart jerked violently. She still remembered him killing her. The glowing pain as the knife was plunged into her chest. She had seen those eyes up close. There really was no mercy in him.

Now. She closed her eyes. Counted to three to calm herself. Her fingers shook like aspen leaves as she slowly brought the matchbox from her pocket. She fumbled as she tried opened the box and took a match.

It was all worth it.

She lit the match, watched it ignite for a quarter second. Then she threw the match to the floor.

It didn't take long. There was a hissing sound then the whole cave seemed to go up in flames. Everything became bright and red and hot. Not long after, Elena heard the first screams.

She sprang up from the altar, jumped down from the stage and ran through the forest of fire. She wouldn't leave this place until she knew that Damon and Jeremy were sound and safe.

It was hard to spot them in the cacophony that arose. A flame stretched out and burned Elena's arm. But she kept going, even if in the end she would be burned to a coal.

Finally she came to the end of the cave where she hadn't sprayed any gasoline and where the air was blissfully cool and clear. It was also where she found Damon. Her whole body sagged with relief as she saw him, knowing she had done at least one thing right.

He saw her too and for a second the world seemed to melt away. As if nothing had happened, as if they weren't both bloody and burned and agitated, he smiled. She strode towards him. Now all she had to do was find Jeremy and they could get out of here. She opened her mouth to tell Damon that, but stopped.

Damon also saw it and turned around.

A large wolf stood before them. It looked to belong in the world of scarlet flames, its yellow eyes glowing.

The wolf lunged right at them.

* * *

**Ah! The return of werewolf-Tyler! I hope he'll return in the series as well. I've heard that Jules will come back, but unfortunately no news of Tyler. But I _refuse _to believe that he's gone forever.**

**Song: La mer (Charles Trenet) In the lovely summer time I got high on this song before going to the actual sea.**

**Where I am it's cold so I am wearing a thick sweater. Just thought I'd tell you! I promise to update as soon as I can, trust me when I tell you that sometimes I simply run out of time, how awful that may sound!**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	23. BEAUTIFUL GRAVITY

**So this is the 23rd Chapter. It's a bit surreal to me. I've written long stories before, but this different somehow. This is the first story that really has mattered and that other people can comment. There is a bit more to go before we reach the end, but fortunately, we'll reach it soon. But I'll keeping making stories and I'll keeping loving Vampire Diaries. That is a promise.**

**I'm sorry to tell you that this chapter will be kind of devastating, the most cruel chapter yet. But just trust me when I tell you that nothing is written in stone. Interpret that in whatever way you want.**

**Thank you all those who comment and follow, you make me feel like I'm doing something right and that's beautiful!**

**I present you:**

**BEAUTIFUL GRAVITY**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

There was no way to stop it. Nothing to do.

The wolf and Damon melted into a dark, grey blur. Elena heard Damon's roar as the wolf almost tenderly bit deep into Damon's neck. There was a flash of red, then they both tumbled to the ground.

She thought this was it. This was over. She had failed and Damon had died because of her mistake. Everything started to hurt. Ache. It was like a pain that bloomed all over. And she knew for a second what a bleeding heart was.

Then, barely believing it, she saw Damon feebly but successfully push the wolf off him. The wolf didn't look the least bothered, it didn't even attack him again. It just gave Elena one angry look, as if trying to say _I won't be giving second chances next time_, then it was off and disappeared into the forest of fire that kept growing.

Burning.

Elena knelt by Damon. The ground was slippery with blood. Damon held his fingers tightly pressed over the wound and she could see something dark gleam in between. It made her feel all cold inside. To her surprise, Damon looked relieved. "See, it's healing, it's healing!" he said enthusiastically and removed his fingers.

And Elena saw. It was a very peculiar thing to watch, new skin growing over the old. The blood drying and falling off in rusty flakes. Nothing _certainly _made sense anymore. She wished – if she survived this chaos that was – that there'd come a time when she would feel warm and happy and _ordinary _again. No more supernatural things. She could even keep on sweeping the floors of Theatre de Monroe and be content. If Damon was there.

"We have to find Jeremy."

She wanted to say something else, like _It would kill me if you died. _Like, _I love you_. Sooner or later she would have to say those three words, three syllables, eight letters. Or it would be too late. Like in that other reality.

But first she had to find Jeremy. Damon nodded, and she was relieved to see that he wasn't disappointed. He understood that she had to save her brother. Suddenly she realized with a sharp pang that he probably wanted to save his own brother too. As they headed, close together, through the fire, she looked to the sides to try and spot Stefan Salvatore, but didn't see him anywhere. Not even Damon had a clue where he was.

In the cacophony of the fire and screams from the vampires, it was hard to make her voice heard: "Jeremy? JEREMY?" For every time she called his name, her voice became more desperate, more frantic. She started panicking, breathing became difficult and her head throbbed violently.

She started to cry.

It was awful timing, this was the moment she had to act brave, but the dam simply burst and every sharp, painful feeling leaked out. She was tired of all this. Of the evil and darkness of the world. Of her beloved always lingering at the edge of death.

Jeremy couldn't be taken from her. Not after his miraculous escape out of his sickness.

She didn't know what to do.

* * *

Jeremy desperately searched for a way out of the flaming maze, but there was not one. He was surrounded by walls of fire and he'd have to run through them to get out but that'd be his death. Beside him, a vampire moaned on the floor. His clothes were black and his skin was quickly turning red and contorted.

So far he had only gotten a burn on his arm, it hurt, but he was alive. He wanted to get out of here anyway. Find Elena and go home. Try to forget this all ever happened. But he had an unpleasant feeling that fleeing wouldn't be so easy.

Perhaps he wouldn't even ever leave.

He tried to bring the thought out of his mind and continued searching for a way out. There had to be a way out, even if the situation was becoming more dire.

Then suddenly he saw her. She wore a red dress that melted in beautifully with the flames, and she looked paler and more distraught than ever before, but it was her, it was Elena! He felt light – but that might have been because of the smoke.

Bravely she rushed through the flames and somehow managed to come through the wall without hurting herself, and then she wound her arms around him, and sobbed into his hair. Behind her, Jeremy could see another person standing, waiting. He seemed to be a vampire but there was nothing hostile about him and Jeremy relaxed.

Things were going to be OK.

Elena let go of him and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, adding more soot to her face. "All right," she said with a broken voice. "Now let's get out of here."

They had to run through the flaming wall. Jeremy closed his eyes and jumped right through it. There was a pang of heat, but then they were out of the evil circle and could zigzag through the fire to the tunnel far ahead. Jeremy could already feel cold air cool his skin. Just a little further now, and they'd be safe. No vampires, no fire.

He almost laughed when they reached the tunnel and started heading through it. It glowed with light from the fire behind, but the heat was gone. He was tired after everything that had happened, but he kept running.

Nothing would make him stop now.

* * *

Just when everything was supposed to go right again, Damon started stumbling. She stopped, looked over her shoulder. Obviously fear hadn't unhooked its claws from her just yet.

"Keep going, keep going!" Damon yelled to her, but she saw his knees giving way and she saw him fall to the floor. Nothing would make her leave him. She hurried over to him, tried to help him up but it was impossible. Then she saw it. In the gloom, it was barely visible, but it was there. His neck, which was supposed to have healed, was covered in what looked like burns, but worse. And it was bleeding.

"What's the matter, Damon?" she asked, dangerously close to tears again. "I thought it had healed?"

Damon looked up at her almost sadly. "I thought that too." He closed his eyes. "I don't think I can go on. But you – leave, now! Maybe Klaus is still alive and you have flee and take your brother with you."

Elena was almost cross. "What are you talking about? Get up now, Damon! Please, it's not even much left. We'll get help for you – just hold on for a couple more seconds."

Damon breathed in with a whistling sound. He did look like he felt awful in the glow of the fire. Too soon she realized what was happening. "No, Damon! Don't do this now, _don't…"_

He forced open his eyes and gripped her hand. He opened his mouth to say something but no noise came out. Then his grip began to relax…

"Damon! _Damon, please God, don't..!"_

She couldn't breathe.

* * *

Tyler wove tirelessly between the flames in search of Klaus. The fire didn't hurt him, he was too fast for it. And his determination to kill made him all the quicker.

The non-wolf part of him broke apart in pain. He regretted biting that vampire who had been with a human. The way the human had looked at him afterwards… as if she knew what he had done. He could barely believe what he had become. Now he truly was a monster.

But he couldn't stop now. He had to kill Klaus. It would shred the last piece of his soul but he would still do it. For Sarah.

_And then what_, he thought. _How will I then live, with the knowledge of taking a life? How will I ever be able to look at Sarah without remembering what I did? How will I ever forgive myself? What a life will I live?_ Neverless he prepared himself to do it.

Suddenly the wolf-part spotted Klaus. He didn't have a particular scent and he gave no noise either, but it was as if darkness radiated off him. He was evil. But killing him would still be murder.

They looked at each other. Klaus smiled and raised his hand as if to greet him.

The human part of Tyler thought of Sarah. She wouldn't want him to do this. And despite everything, he stopped. Klaus smile faded. _I'm not going to become like you_, Tyler thought.

He turned his muzzle upwards and howled. It streamed out of him, all the hatred all the pain. It was the howl of a wolf but it had also never been more human.

Then he turned round and ran away.

* * *

The quiet pressed against her ears. It was too loud.

Elena lay down beside Damon. There were no words for how she felt. How it hurt.

She took Damon's cold hand in hers.

She didn't ever want to let go.

* * *

**Music: Sea of regrets (iLIKETRAINS) or People Change (Joel & Luke)**

**I just a bought a notebook and just now I was leafing through the empty pages. It's a peculiar feeling to want to fill blank pages with words. I think it's in the heart, the need to write. As well as the need to make music, the need to run, the need to laugh is. It's another way of speaking, letting our emotions and dreams and creativity surface. And isn't that absolutely fantastic?**

**Please don't kill for this chapter, how else will you be able to know what happens next?**

**And other good news: six days until the return of the TVD. Oh how I've missed it. Hopefully they haven't another hiatus in store for us, because then I think I'm just going to go ahead and explode.**

**My plan is to wait 'til the last episode of season two (wonder what cliffhanger _that_ will have) and then I'll re-watch both season 1 and season 2. It's going to be in the summer so I have pleeeeenty of time.**

**Imagine lying in a hammock on a sandy beach and watching TVD on a laptop. It'll have to be night of course and you'll have to be covered in a blanket for warmth, but wouldn't that be wonderful? Of course that's not really gonna' happen to me. It'll just be me, my computer and strawberries instead.**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	24. THE WARMTH OF YOUR HAND

**I know I apologize too much, but here it is again: I'm sorry for delaying my update _again_. Monday has just really, _really _been slow. Monday is the kind of the day when you'd rather sit in some bar and forget your woes for a moment. And here it comes, a cliché: I hate Mondays. But who knows, maybe _you _like Mondays ;)**

**Thank you all you wonderful people who comment and follow, you even make _Mondays _brighter.**

**So I present you, ladies and gentlemen:**

**THE WARMTH OF YOUR HAND**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

It took a while for Jeremy to notice that Elena and the friendly vampire were no longer behind him. He stopped, forced himself to regulate his breathing. Listened. There were no more sounds of running feet, no panting, just an eerie quiet that made all the ecstasy he had felt over running way leave his system.

"Elena?" he asked uncertainly into the dark. No answer. He hadn't expected one either.

So here he was, in the middle of a tunnel completely buried in darkness. Not even the glow of the fire reached this place. He didn't know whether to go back or go on ahead. Perhaps something bad had happened to Elena. Perhaps she had just taken a detour. His best chance was to run ahead, but that could mean something bad for Elena.

He didn't know what to do.

Fortunately, the answer came soon enough. Unfortunately, it wasn't the answer he needed. The tunnel seemed to become brighter and brighter until he could see the source of the light. Three lit torches in front of him, three behind. He was surrounded.

It didn't take long before he could see the faces behind the fire. The vampires. Probably those who had survived. Their clothes were nastily burnt but their skin was unharmed. Their eyes glowed menacingly and angrily. He knew they wanted to kill him. It felt like ice filled his stomach.

One of the faces he recognized with a jolt.

Anastasia.

* * *

Elena lay beside Damon and felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing. She had become part of the dust she lay on, Damon's hand had melted into hers. It felt safe that way. The world didn't exist and she did no longer have to feel pain anymore.

It was all good . _This _was reality.

Then, faintly, she could hear a voice. It was as if she was imprisoned in a cube of glass and the voice tried to reach her somewhere out there. She didn't bother trying to reach it – just listened as it echoed all over in the glass cube. _Let it sound_, she thought dully, _I don't care anymore_. It was almost frightening how apathetic she had become. As if truly the world had ceased to be in a time span of seconds.

Something shook her shoulder, but she didn't want to respond, much less open her eyes. It felt safer to be in this cocoon of nothing, much safer.

But whoever was calling her name was persistent. In a sudden, quick movement she was pulled up on her feet. Involuntarily she opened her eyes.

In a rush it all came back to her. Damon's death, the pain. She gasped for air and glared at the person who had disturbed her peace.

It was Elijah.

Surprisingly, he looked fine. Only his clothes were a little burned at the edges, but he seemed as eerily haunting as before.

"_What_?" Elena hissed at him. Her voice came out hoarse and ragged, the voice of a stranger. She realized she was crumbling and all that made her _herself _hadstarted tumbling down.

"Did you see him?" Elijah asked, his voice shaking with rage. "Did you see Klaus?" Looking down, Elena could see he was a holding a stake. A suicide mission, but she didn't bother telling him that.

"No," she whispered. Though she tried not to, her gaze wondered off to Damon and another wave of pain crashed over her. It was horrible to see him like this – unmoving, still. It wasn't as if his heart had beat before, but at least he had been alive in a way. _There_. And now he was gone.

Suddenly a light went on in her head and all the pain faded away for a second. Why hadn't she thought of it earlier? There was only a tiny chance it could work, and if it didn't Elena knew she would fall even deeper down into the abyss she had created, but she still had to try.

There was someone who perhaps had the power to bring Damon back to life.

Santiago.

* * *

Jeremy saw immediately how bad his chances were. He couldn't run – they'd catch him before he could blink. He couldn't bargain –what had he to bargain with? And he couldn't fight – there were more of them and they were much, much stronger.

It was a rather hopeless situation and he could only see one outcome.

Death.

A deep melancholia hooked its claws in him. That it would end like this. After all that had happened, the tuberculosis, being bitten Anastasia, nearly being killed again – he couldn't die here and now, when fleeing. It was such a stupid and meaningless death, but at the same time he didn't see any other path he could take.

There's always a choice, but not in this case. He would have to perish.

Anastasia smiled, seeing his fear. She hadn't been so calm earlier, but now she was absolutely crazy, her dark eyes glittering like black diamonds. It was frightening to know that someone wanted him dead _so much_. What had he ever done to them?

"Aw, don't look sad," she said sweetly, tilting her head to the side. "This is just revenge, really. Many of my friends died in the fire _your _sister started. An eye for an eye, that's just what this is. So you have to understand that I have to do this."

She took a step forwards and Jeremy immediately stepped back. He bumped into one of the vampires who grabbed his arms and twisted them behind his back, so that no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't free himself.

Anastasia looked close to hypnotized as she stared at his throat. "It'll be quick. Or not…"

Jeremy desperately struggled against the grip of the vampire as she came closer. Panic bloomed in his heart and made it slam into his ribs, shortening his breathing.

"You don't have to…" he tried. In vain. It looked as if nothing would more stop her from killing him.

At once she was over him and he felt her teeth dig deep into his throat. It hurt, but the pain strangely, but quickly faded away. He closed his eyes and started tumbling through eternal dark, weightless. He was cold one moment, then he was comfortably warm. And at the end of the big hole he was falling through he could see a radiant glow.

But almost mercilessly he was ripped back into the world again. With great difficulty he opened his eyes.

It was dark. But there was also a light. Orange and red and yellow. Fire. As his sight sharpened he could see a torch. And the one holding the torch.

It was someone he had never seen before. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked kind enough, except that his clothes were dark with blood, with his hand outstretched to help Jeremy up.

Jeremy took it thankfully.

He pressed his hand to the bite wound on his throat to stop the bleeding and ease the pain and looked around to see what had happened to the vampires.

What he saw made his blood freeze.

They were all dead, their bodies lying twisted on the ground. The blood was just dark liquid on the ground, subtly gleaming red in the torchlight. Anastasia lay on her back, and her eyes stared unseeing into the ceiling of the tunnel.

He stared at the stranger, who looked at the slaughtered vampires and shrugged. "They're monsters, they deserved this. Or would you rather I had let them kill you like _prey_?" His voice dripped with contempt.

Jeremy shook his head. Nausea slowly crept over him. He knew he couldn't stand being in this tunnel of murder any longer.

"Go," the stranger said kindly. "Let me take care of this."

Jeremy didn't hesitate as he rushed ahead through the tunnel, intent on getting away from all death and blood and murder.

He didn't see Klaus smile.

* * *

Elijah was about to head on, but Elena stopped him by grabbing his arm. "How do you summon Santiago? I need him."

"Santiago can't be summoned," Elijah sighed, annoyed. "He's far away now, maybe not even in the country. He can travel fast, you know."

But Elena's will was granite.

"Don't lie."

He looked at her and softened just a little. "Alright, you _can _summon him. He is a warlock after all." He reached into his pocket and brought out a tiny set of chimes. Elena frowned as he dropped it into her hand. "I guess you will need it more than I do."

Elena's pain-struck mind couldn't make any sense out of this but she decided to leave the matter the be.

Without even one more word Elijah gave her a serious nod and disappeared into the gloom again, probably in search of Klaus.

Elena sat down beside Damon and leaned her back against the wall. Her soul was in uproar. She didn't know whether to feel hope or desolation. It would be devastating to find her hopes crushed, but there was also a chance that it could work.

She stretched out the hand in which she held the chimes into the dark.

There was no wind, but still they started moving and gently bumped into each other, making a chrystal clear, haunting sound, like a melody from ancient times. She listened to it.

And waited.

* * *

**So for once I will end with an _indirect_ cliffhanger. Perhaps Santiago _can _help Damon. We'll see, won't we…**

**Other good news: it is but days until the return of TVD. Sometimes life _is _wonderful, even if it may seem a tad hard at times. I think I will buy a huge bag of popcorn and soda and enjoy!**

**Music: Good Life (OneRepublic) I just realized the song existed. Quite amazing, right?**

**Anyway, I hope you all have something to brighten your Monday!**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	25. ORCHID

**Namaste!**

**We all have something to celebrate today: the return of TVD. Finally, _finally_ the day has come! See, the wait wasn't so bad after all. Or all right, it was bad but now it's over and I am _very _happy. Unfortunately I won't be able to see the episode until the day after tomorrow due to tricky circumstances, but I hope you will have a cozy TVD night.**

**Anyway, I know I haven't updated and I am ashamed, but now here one is: so yay! I guess.**

**Thank you all who comment and follow, I still can't believe that there are people who like this story.**

**Without further due, I present you:**

**ORCHID**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters, except Santiago)**

_They were at the sea, looked over the endless blue, tranquil. Elena leaned against Damon's shoulder and felt all her woe and misery melt away with the gathering dusk. This felt good. No more shadows looming over her and Damon, no more pain._

_This was her sanctuary, a safe place, like those tents you make out of blankets and chairs when you're a child and think that no wardrobe monsters will get into._

_They didn't even need words. It could be just them and it was already all right. _

Elena woke with a start.

It felt like she had fallen off a cliff as it all rushed back to her. In the dream, she had forgotten. But now, lying close to Damon's body, there was no way she could forget. But she still hoped. Hoped that somehow Damon would return and live and love again.

She waited tensely for Santiago, waited with a heart brimming with hope and pain likewise. It was torture to feel it, but to cheer herself up a little she told herself that it would get better. No storm clouds can last for ever, eventually they have to part and let the blue sky through. Of course if Santiago _couldn't _help Damon, the clouds would stay and hover for as long as she lived. Maybe it wouldn't rain _all her life_, there'd be times when it wouldn't be so difficult, but still, she wouldn't ever properly heal.

"Here I am."

She winced, instinctively crept against the wall against the strange voice in the dark. Then she recognized the voice, took a torch from the tunnel wall and extended it into the gloom. Santiago's eyes glittered in the torchlight. After their farewell, it was odd to see him, but still it made her soul spring up in ecstasy.

In his own way, Santiago already knew what was going on and hurried to Damon, who hadn't changed since he had died. He just looked a little grayer and when she gently touched his palm, it was even colder than before.

Santiago rummaged through the bag he had brought with. "I'll see what I can do. But I can't guarantee anything, Elena, heed that."

Elena barely dared to breathe. "Even if doesn't work – we can always try."

Midnight was over, the day of the full moon as well. Now, in his human form, every movement felt slow and clumsy; it had felt so good to leap with the grace of the wolf, feel faster than many animals. In the forest, speed was power. It helped you catch prey, it helped you run away.

He didn't think too much about that. He didn't think much about anything at all. Every thing in him was in uproar. He had done the right thing, but it would have bad consequences. He regretted deeply that he had turned away. The vampire hadn't deserved being spared his life. If Tyler would have killed him, he would have done a good thing, not the right, but still a good thing.

Now – because of his mistake – he had to run as fast as possible with his hopeless human legs. It was a race on life and death and Sarah's life hung on the line.

If he could get to her in time they could still flee, leave the country and disappear so that Isobel and John wouldn't find them. It was possible. He just had to be fast enough. And being human meant being dreadfully slow. It felt like he was wading through syrup.

As he ran, he realized with a jolt that it was nearly Christmas. In all the craziness of the unfortunate events, he had completely forgotten that there were still holidays, that there were still people in the world who would sit in their homes by their fire places and give each other presents. The children would tensely await Father Christmas and the parents would sip egg nod and look warmly at each other, the rich children and parents that was.

He would never have any of that. Not now, not since he made mistake after mistake. Well, he didn't deserve it anyway.

The quiet December night was snowy again, mere darkness and flakes being powdered from the sky. Before he had escaped the mansion, he had sought up something to wear but just found thin pants and a shirt that barely gave any protection against the biting cold. Still, better than nothing.

Paris began to appear as a smoky grey mass at the horizon, a scattering of buildings as if a giant had thrown rocks at the same place. It was his home, but if he would have to leave it, he would leave it. Whatever sacrifice was necessary to protect Sarah, he would do it. The things you do for love.

Elena held Damon's hand in hers as Santiago rubbed dry herbs between his hands. She had closed her eyes, that way she felt a little safer, not so vulnerable in the endless dark tunnel. And if Damon wasn't brought back to life, she wouldn't have to see it.

"You love him," Santiago said quietly, not as a question but a statement. "But you wish it weren't so."

Elena squeezed Damon's hand tighter. She was surprised out how clearly Santiago could see through her. "If we hadn't ever met, we wouldn't have fallen in love… and he wouldn't have had to save me and he wouldn't have had to die."

Santiago gave her a sharp glance. "But you did meet, you did fall in love. Elena, stop thinking ofwhat _could have been_. It happened and can't be changed. It's just fate – everything happens for a reason."

"Then fate is being incredibly cruel to me," Elena replied bitterly. "I have had nothing than pain." She didn't want to feel sorry for herself, but now it came anyway, rolling over her in emotional waves. It was just too much. Her parent's death, Jeremy's sickness – that had been cured, but still, and now Damon dying. Sometimes she felt as if she was poisonous – one touch, and her cherished perished.

Santiago looked at the powder on his palm. "Some think that fate is a path already chosen for them. But fate is actually a lot of roads to choose from. _Your _free will is what makes your fate." As he saw her frowning, he looked up and smiled. "It'll get better."

If only that were true.

Santiago daubed his finger into the powder and then made a streak over Damon's throat. The rest of the powder he let fall to the ground around Damon, as if it didn't matter anymore. Then, he closed his eyes, bent his head down to his knees and whispered words Elena couldn't comprehend. Latin, perhaps.

And then fidelity followed.

There was a sharp intake of breath, Damon's chest rose and he opened his eyes. The abnormal pallor quickly faded and he got back his original whitish color. The streak of powder on his throat vanished into his skin, as if soaked up by it.

It was beautiful to watch, as if observing an orchid blooming again, after dying.

"Damon," Elena whispered softly, overcome by all the feelings and happiness and relief she felt. "Thank you, thank you. Damon!"

Damon looked a little dazed and confused, but he embraced Elena back. She wound her arms tightly around his body.

No one would ever take him away again.

* * *

For some reason, when Tyler entered the house, his movements slowed. His pulse quickened. He was afraid of what he would find. Of what he would _not _find.

"Sarah?"

Slowly, he pushed open the door to the living room.

It was quiet and warm in there, with the windows showing the darkness outside.

There she was, sitting by a fireplace not lit. The melancholy light from a single candle on the coffee table made her skin look pale and blue. As if in a trance, he went to her.

Her eyes stared into the black coals of the fireplace. Unseeing. She looked perfect in a way, peaceful and majestic. But as he took her hands in his, they were cold.

And now he also saw that her blue dress was stained dark over her chest. As he touched it, it was damp and red. Blood. There was even a slit in the fabric where the knife had entered. And stopped her heart.

He took her in his arms, despite her cold skin. He didn't know what he was doing, but somehow, breathing in her scent made him feel as if she wasn't lost already, as if she wasn't dead.

He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

* * *

"Elena, may I speak to you?" Santiago said softly. Elena looked reluctantly up from Damon's shoulder. She felt content as she had never been before. Anything else than being with him wasn't worth being bothered about.

"Go," Damon told her quietly, seeing the serious expression on Santiago's face.

With a sigh, Elena got up and walked over to Santiago, who wound an arm around her back and led her farther into the tunnel until the torchlight and Damon were out of listening range even for a vampire.

"You healed him," Elena said humbly, and her voice grew thick with all the gratitude she felt. It was mesmerizing, how much Santiago had helped her.

"That's what I want to talk with you about. Everything has a price you know."

"Name it," Elena replied without hesitation. She was prepared to rob a bank and give Santiago all the money if it was needed of her.

Santiago gently poked her in the chest, right over her heart.

"It's not a price like that. It's more complicated. Death is sly, Elena. By giving life back to Damon, it needs to take another life in return."

"I understand."

She had already thought about it, earlier. And it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. It was awful to abandon Damon like that, but it had to be done.

In the world of darkness, it was a good deed after all.

And there were so few good deeds left.

* * *

**And we'll end this chapter calmly, because I feel calm with the wind and sunset outside my window. Life is a bit like a roller coaster, but right now things are going upwards and I'm glad for the break from gloom and doom. So I'll make you happy :D**

**Music: Airplanes (B.o.B ft. Hayley Williams) The song is mainstream but I love it because the lyrics are beautiful in their own way.**

**I promise to update as soon as I can, which doesn't always seem soon at all, but is really when I can that I do it. I _don't _sit around with my feet on the table and eat doughnuts and _wonder _if I should write more, I take every opportunity available.**

**By the way, Let Me Sing A Song For You may perhaps be the most successful novel I have written, but it won't be the only one. I think that after this and after a long summer break, I'll create something new and I already have something in mind…**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	26. THE DARKEST LIGHT

**So now the weekend is over and I've returned to writing (yay!) Still feel like I could do with more sleep and rest and books.**

**Anyway, TVD left me unsatisfied on Thursday. I mean I'm not unsatisfied by the episode itself, I thought it awesome, but it was too short. By all means, it could have gone on for hours and I would have been happy. And such a cliffhanger at the end ;)**

**Thank you all who comment and follow! You make writing at 3 A.M worthwhile!**

**I present you:**

**THE DARKEST LIGHT**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

They were back at the theatre. Elena was wrapped in a blanket to keep herself warm, but what actually gave her warmth was leaning against Damon. They hadn't bothered washing themselves yet or changing into new clothes, and though Elena was exhausted and longed for sleep, they still sat in the costume room. Just like that day before everything went wrong.

No one wanted to talk nor think about what had happened. So Damon had whipped out _A House of Pomegranates, _Oscar Wilde, from nowhere and started to read it for her. The sound of his voice calmed her, and at least a little stress melted away. She knew she would have to deal with what had happened sooner or later, but she felt she couldn't do it now or she would break. Besides, it would only make her think of the fate that still awaited her, a fate that Damon wasn't aware of.

A fate that would set full stop to _her _story. Although the truth was that every story had to end. It was just life, natural. If death would cease to be, who knew what else might happen. The moon might stop orbiting around the world, the world around the sun. The sky might turn green and the oceans might freeze over.

She closed her eyes, let Damon's voice fill her, and wished someone would photograph the moment.

* * *

It was inevitable that they would meet again.

As soon as Elijah saw Klaus sit on the last step of the marble staircase, he gripped the stake tighter so that the wood bit into his palm. It wasn't just any old wood either. It was the wood of an ancient ash, the only thing that could kill an original.

That could kill Klaus.

And how Elijah wanted to kill him. The mere sight of Klaus made hatred flood his system like an acidic liquid burning in his veins.

And he couldn't just let the past go. He couldn't just forgive Klaus and get on with his life. Because what Klaus did all those centuries ago needed to be justified. And he, Elijah, was the one who had to take revenge.

"Old friend," Klaus said and smiled.

Elijah's grip on the stake tightened. This was the moment. But the truth was that he was frightened of what a turn things could take. Klaus was after all _much, much _older and his strength had already been proven last time they had met.

All the more reason for doing this.

For setting full stop to a story that should have ended a long time ago.

Klaus sighed playfully. "I knew this moment would come. You are so _obvious, _Elijah. I don't even know why I just didn't kill you back then, it would definitely rid me of one problem at least."

There was no emotion in Klaus' eyes, nothing, not even a hint. Elijah knew he meant nothing to Klaus, and it hurt him, despite his hatred. Had Klaus never even noticed that they had been friends a time? Probably. Elijah could not tell what went on in the original's head, but he was pretty certain that Klaus saw himself as a god or something.

Something invincible.

The stake began to feel hot in his hand. His fingers slipped on it because of the blood.

For the first time in years he felt nervous. It was unpleasant, his skin turned cold and then warm and his mind kept running off track, and, simultaneously, it was also beautiful. It was the first time in years that he felt something so strongly. Previously his life as a vampire had flowed by in a numb, cold stream, but now it started to burn and Elijah realized that this was the reason fate had made him a vampire in the first place. After this, nothing really mattered. He thought of meeting the dawn _without _the ring and setting himself free.

Klaus slowly rose from the stairs and started walking towards Elijah. He was in no hurry; his steps were lazy and thorough.

There was something very primitive about this all, like two lions getting ready for combat. And one lion would tear apart the other. Klaus just hoped it was _he _who would go out those doors.

"You are really something," Klaus mocked as he gingerly kept advancing on Elijah. "To believe that _you _can defeat _me. _You might be old, you might be both strong and fast, but not more so than me." He nodded at Elijah's stake. "And to be truthful, it doesn't even seem like you're trying."

Elijah raised the stake. "This wood is what will kill you, Klaus. Not much can kill you, but this certainly can."

Klaus stopped and folded his arms. In the feeble light from the chandelier, his eyes seemed darker and they gleamed gleefully. "Is the reason for this that you can't let the past go? That you're still sad I betrayed you."

"The reason for this," Elijah said. "Is that you killed my wife."

A taut silence spread over the entrance hall. Elijah felt that all the hatred and anguish in him was enough to fill emptiness itself up, enough to provide a whole nation with tragedy for years. "Remember her? Eleanor, 1568, beautiful and of such a kindred spirit. You didn't even have to kill her. She got in your way and as you do with _every_one who stands in your path, you disposed of her in cold blood. I guess that was the moment when I realized there was actually nothing human in you anymore."

Klaus wasn't smiling anymore, but he looked neither regretful nor troubled by his deed either.

"You can't see the difference between good or bad," Elijah went on. "And you're not neutral to it like animals are either. And that makes you a genuine monster. Perhaps after what I've done I am a monster too, but killing you _is _the right thing. You belong in hell, Klaus, and that's where you shall go after death."

Klaus looked down and gave Elijah a lopsided smile.

"So bring it on."

* * *

Their peace was broken by the creak of the door as it opened.

They both tensed. In the semi-dark they could barely see each other, let alone the shadow that they felt coming towards them.

"Damon!" Elena whispered in panic.

He looked abnormally pale too, but valiantly he rose and prepared himself to meet the intruder.

They both waited with violent hearts and ice-cold fear. It could be Klaus after all. Maybe he survived the fire and had come back to end them both as revenge, against which they didn't stand a chance. After all, what were they but a human girl and a vampire that was barely a year old?

Suddenly, a light was ignited. And the lantern illuminated the stranger.

Elena felt weak with relief. In that short moment before the intruder had been revealed, she had come up with so many possible outcomes of the situation. What if it had been Klaus, or Katherine or the vampires who survived the fire? What if it had been something even worse than that…? Santiago had after all told her that she would die, and that was something inevitable, but he hadn't told her _how _she would die, so it could be in whatever way imaginable.

But this time she was in luck, it was only Stefan. Never would she have thought that the sight of him would make her happy. Damon seemed even more glad than her. Elena could see the relief on his face upon the realization that his brother hadn't died.

Stefan gave Elena an apologetic smile. "Listen carefully now; time is short: I'm afraid your little plan of arson didn't quite work. I escaped the flames and came back later to see who was dead, and most of them are, except a handful of Klaus' followers and Klaus himself and Katherine."

Elena's heart dropped like a stone in a deep, deep pond. It had been naïve to believe that a simple fire would kill Klaus, but a little part of her had still hoped for it. Because surely there was a way to destroy the evil vampire _somehow_.

Stefan looked at them both with a gaze that was too weary and worn for someone so young.

"He'll be coming for you next."

* * *

Mustering all his speed and strength, Elijah ran at Klaus, who despite everything wasn't prepared for the sudden movement so that they both crashed to the floor. But Klaus wasn't late to react. He slipped from under Elijah and instead forced his opponent down on the floor, while he squeezed the wrist of Elijah's hand that was holding the stake.

In pain, Elijah had to let go of it and Elijah took it, triumphant.

"So much for the plan, huh?" Klaus grinned and then pressed the point of the stake to Elijah's chest, right over the heart.

Elijah tried to free himself, but he realized with a jolt that it was too late. Too late. Those two words rang in his head. He had failed his mission. Now he could only hope that there would come a time when somebody finally conquered Klaus and rid the world of one more inky black heart.

"Don't be sad," Klaus said quietly, almost gently, while the point of the stake still rested on Elijah. "You'll be with your precious Eleanor soon…"

"At least I have something to look forward to. But _you_-" Elijah's voice dripped with contempt. "_You_ have nothing good waiting for you down there in hell."

For a single second Elijah could see something like bitterness and remorse in Klaus' eyes, then they turned plainly blue again.

"Don't be so sure."

Then Klaus raised the stake and thrust it right into Elijah's heart.

* * *

**I know, I know, I know! I killed Elijah just like in TVD and I'm sorry and I'm sorry to tell you he won't be the only one.**

**A little trivia: One of my favorite all time films is _Snow Queen _(2002-3) I think it's a Hallmark movie, but anyway – Daniel Gillies (Elijah) plays a prince in it. And the original title of this story was _Snow Queen _too until I changed it to _Let Me Sing A Song For You_.**

**Oh, and there are already photos from 21st of April – episode "Klaus" so be sure to check them out! Both Daniel Gillies and Joseph Morgan are in them and Katherine – I am to say the least intrigued.**

**Music: _I wish I was a punk rocker (Sandi Thom) _The song is somehow sad and happy at the same time and _I'm in here (Sia) _Sia is just wonderful.**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	27. LIEBESTRÄUME

**I presume I haven't written a while again and boy, do I wish I could go back to those days where I update on time a day – and good news: it will happen that I'll be writing more. As of Monday I have 8 days of holidays with plenty of room and time for writing.**

**Thank you that you have been so patient by the way!**

**Oh, and other good news: Vampire Diaries is on tonight again. Klaus isn't appearing in this episode yet – or I think at least, but it'll be fun to see how he walks and talks through Alaric. The trailer promised quite much so I have big hopes and TVD almost _never _makes me disappointed.**

**Thank you all who comment and follow, this story is for you and you know it!**

**Let me present the chapter of tonight:**

**LIEBESTRÄUME**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

6 days later:

Elena heard the rustle of applause as the play ended and then the thunder as the audience began to rise and head for the wardrobes for their coats and robes before they headed out into the cold December night. It was the last play before the great winter break, as it was New Year's Eve the following day. Elena wondered what 1921 would give her. Hopefully it wouldn't be so emotionally ripping as 1920 had been. Silently she wished for a year of quiet, peace and Damon… until it was time for the end. Surely that wasn't too much to ask for?

She waited until the whole audience had left before she headed for the auditorium where she knew she would find Damon. He had played the piano during the play, such sweet music that she had felt something would implode in her. She thought of convincing him to spend this next-to-last day walking about in the snow-powdered, frozen streets of Paris. That was her plan – to spend as much time as possible with him, before it was too late. She wasn't even worried about Klaus – after a week of silence from his part, she had began to relax and the fear had started to fade away. Maybe Klaus had changed his mind and was far, far away…?

But as she opened the doors to the auditorium and entered the warm hall, the sound of voices made her stop instinctively. One was Damon's, she could recognize his voice anywhere, and the other was female, and so familiar… She looked at the stage to see who it was.

_Katherine. _

A chill spread through her body, made her heart fill with icy dread. Katherine. The last person she wanted to see right now. And as if it wasn't enough, Katherine wore the clothes Elena wore at the moment, making her look exactly like Elena. And there was no doubt about what she was trying to do.

The worst was: Damon was fooled. Even though it wasn't his fault, she knew that, it felt like thorns pricked her soul. Elena was perhaps Katherine's doppelganger but that didn't mean they were at all alike in personality. She wondered why Damon couldn't see that. Hadn't they gotten to know each other inside out the last few weeks? But she had to admit, it was hard to see the real Katherine the way she behaved. She spoke to Damon in a soft, lulling tone and smiled every so often. It was a little too overdone version of Elena, but still, it was apparent that it worked.

Suddenly her breath became asthmatic again. She couldn't watch this. Yet – for some reason – she couldn't step forward and claim herself to be the real Elena either. It was as if everything had skidded to a halt in her system. She just wanted to leave.

Carefully she closed the doors behind her and disappeared.

* * *

"You know it's the last eve before New Year's Eve, right?" Damon asked Elena as he closed the lid over the keys and began to gather his music sheets. The air was stifling on the scene, he wanted to get out into the cold air and _breathe_. But first Elena had to come with him.

She smiled.

"How about we go to a restaurant or bistro? As a celebration that it's all finally over?"

Elena's smile widened. "I'll get my coat."

Damon let her go on forward while he paused and reached into his pocket. The little box covered in satin was still there and so was the shimmering ring inside. It felt warm and safe in his palm, but he was still almost hyperventilating. Breathing suddenly became difficult and that was why he needed fresh air. He was scared that Elena might decline. Simultaneously it was beautiful to feel so vividly again. To feel so vividly for _someone_.

Closing the box, and putting it back into his pocket, he hurried after Elena, who only had to put on her blue coat and then they could leave Theatre de Monroe.

* * *

The evening was picturesque again. In the dark night, Paris glowed with thousands of lights, the streets smelled of bread and delicacies, the wind sounded with music and laughter. The snow had ceased but left a soft duvet of white on the ground. Elena stuck her arm under Damon's and together they walked through the night.

Despite being a vampire, Damon had never before felt so _alive_. To walk through Paris with Elena almost made his heart beat again. And to tell the truth, after all that had happened – he deserved it. This little piece of sun after the long time of darkness. Despite what the bad things he had done.

They found a cozy little bistro in the corner of Rue d'Or. There the atmosphere was warm, filled with the scent of food and chatter. Lit candles stood on every table. Though Damon suspected Elena found this place terribly romantic, he wouldn't ask her here. It was a pretty place – but dissatisfying. He was ready to steal the moon from the sky for her, so she needed some place more worthy. And he knew just the place.

"Damon." He looked at her and saw that her eyes were moist. "I'm so glad that we're here… and alive. For a moment there – I thought we really were going to die."

He nodded solemnly, but he didn't want to think about it anymore. The days of terror and pain had to be behind him, how else would he go on?

Now all he wanted was to be here. With her.

* * *

Jeremy couldn't sleep.

It had all happened a week ago, but still the fear wouldn't let go. He still saw the bodies of the vampires lying in pools of their own blood before his eyes. It felt as if his heart was paralyzed. Chronically. Besides, there was something that had happened that he hadn't told Elena or anyone else. That he had tried to hide from himself even.

After a couple of hours after rushing out of the mansion, he had returned to the tunnels. Despite the stranger's warning. He didn't even know why he had done it. No matter how he turned and twisted it in his head, he couldn't make sense of it all.

From his pocket he had retrieved the empty vial of cough medicine he had used during his sickness and then he had filled it up with Anastasia's blood to the brim.

Now, he lay in his bed and couldn't sleep because of what he had done. The vial of blood lay on his bedside table and gleamed red in the glow from the street lanterns. It seemed to pulse, to _sound _in the quiet but when he pressed it against his ear he couldn't hear anything.

He wished he had to strength to pour it out. But he hadn't. The truth was – the blood was appealing. It called on him and promised him release of the demons that haunted him. Perhaps if he drank that blood and killed himself and became a vampire – he would forget everything he had seen in the last few days. Because it was impossible to live like this – as a witness to a horrifying slaughter. But again – was becoming a monster really an answer to his problem?

All he knew was that he wanted it. He _wanted _to become a vampire and that was what made him most disgusted.

Right next to the vial of blood lay a knife. It would be so easy – drink – stab – die- awake.

Elena would never forgive him.

He buried his face in the pillow and tried to sleep. Sleep would definitely help him make a rational decision. It would be so stupid to become a vampire and then regret it. Jeremy knew that some people – like Elena's Damon – became vampires against their will. So what he wanted to do was actually selfish and cruel to humanity.

But the pull in his heart was too strong. He gripped the vial of blood from the bedside table, up-ended and then took the heavy, cold knife in his hand. Took a deep breath. Hopefully, this would work. He was sure that it would. But there was still an unsettling sprinkle of doubt.

He plunged the knife deep, deep into his chest. The blade went in smoothly, as if he were made of paper.

First, it didn't hurt. It just felt… cold. Only a couple of minutes after came the wildfire.

He sank down on the bed again. The blood started to color the sheets.

* * *

Elena leaned into kiss him. He smiled and breathed in her wonderful, warm scent – and froze.

It wasn't her scent. There was no warmth, no smell of blood, nothing. The Elena in front of him wasn't alive and she smelled of green apples.

Green apples.

At once it felt like he had been eating ice.

"What's wrong?" Katherine frowned, and looked at him with the dark, all-knowing eyes.

With great effort he managed to smoothen his expression. It was only barely that he could – but he realized that he had to. Even though he was looking into the eyes of the vampire who had turned him, who had made him suffer so much.

"You want to dance?" he asked valiantly to not rouse any suspicion.

"Obviously."

They rose from the table and moved on to the little wooden platform where couples could dance to the music of Liszt, _Liebestraum _in particular.

Katherine wound an arm around Damon and they began to move – first quickly, then they slowed down. Damon didn't look away from Katherine.

"I love you, Damon," she whispered, making it almost seem real.

"But I don't love you, Katherine."

Katherine's expression glazed over. She stared at him with surprise and _disappointment, _fell back from him and looked down on her chest. Blood was blooming over her heart, in which a stake was stuck.

He felt no remorse, no grief, as he pulled the stake out of her back. Just this endless relief that he had done it. That she would never more pose a threat to neither Elena nor him nor anyone else. He felt… _free._

Her skin already began to turn grayish, and he caught her in his arms before she fell to the ground. Trying not to raise the attention of the other guests in the bistro, he gently pushed her back in her seat by the table. Had it not been for the abnormally colored skin, one would have thought she was only sleeping.

"No one could ever love you," Damon whispered, even though he knew she couldn't hear. "Not after what you did – all the humans you killed and hearts you broke. Good luck in hell, Katherine."

He covered her with her coat to hide the blood and then hurriedly left the bistro. It wouldn't take long before somebody realized she was dead. But they wouldn't remember Damon, and even if they did, he knew they wouldn't go to the police because everyone would feel only satisfaction for some reason when they looked at her. Because she was a bad person through and through. They wouldn't know that but they would be aware still.

It felt good to be outside. It had started to snow again.

He had done the right thing.

* * *

**And Let Me Sing A Song For You harvests a new victim. But come on – don't you think Katherine deserves it? Especially in the series she is a traitorous, backstabbing, heartbreaking and mean person.**

**But she is also quite cool in her own way, and hey, it wasn't exactly her fault that she was turned by the oldest vampire in history that now wants to kill her. Well, I don't know. Leave a comment and tell me what _you _think.**

**I just can't make my mind up on her, that's all.**

**So I'll return within short with a new update and hopefully you all will have a wonderful evening with TVD on those square screens of yours. I'm waiting for tomorrow when _I _can see it. Oh, it will be m-a-g-n-i-f-i-c-e-n-t. After all, I _have _waited.**

**Music of the day: _Quartet for Strings in C Major_ (Haydn) and _Liebesträume _(Liszt) They're geniuses, both of them.**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	28. QUEEN OF HEARTS

**Again I haven't written for a long time, and this time I have no better excuse than that I just want to choose words thoroughly so that they will be like tailor-made for this chapter.**

**Tomorrow we will finally see Klaus in the episode named after him. Yay!**

**(By the way: there are Vampire Diaries – inspired books called Stefan's Diaries, they're not written by L.J Smith, instead they take place in the TV show-world of Vampire Diaries. So it's like Stefan's point of view of what happens. Be sure to check it out – it's awesome!)**

**Thank you all who follow and review – you've given me four golden months of writing!**

**I present you, ladies and gentlemen:**

**QUEEN OF HEARTS**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

The world was spinning out of control.

It was how it felt like: colors melted into each other, his sight blurred and focused, first it was light, then it was dark.

Jeremy didn't even know how he was able to rise from the bed and stumble towards the kitchen. Every inch of his body hurt but what hurt the most were his eyes. It felt like someone had poured petrol into them and then lit them on fire.

A stray ray of sun fell through the grimy window and touched his face. Groaning, he ran away from it. It was as if he was allergic to sun.

And his throat burned savagely, he needed to drink. He reached the kitchen counter and fumbled along it with his hands until he found the jug of water. He drank directly from the jug, let the water rush down and moisten his skin.

For a while it felt good, soothing kind of. Then the fire started again. Even worse – he was monstrously hungry. He found a loaf of bread and ate it whole. But it didn't help. It didn't matter how much he ate, how much he drank – his new system needed something else. And he was well aware of what that was.

Suddenly weary, he sank to the floor and leant his back against the counter.

Everything had suddenly gone mad. Instead of the escape from the demons that haunted him, he had been thrust into a world that was burning and twisting around him.

Hell.

And it was only the beginning.

* * *

Elena didn't know how much more days of darkness she could withstand. Even after this last day of December there'd be January and February. Spring and all its warmth seemed so far away.

She went home in the dusk, felt that she couldn't stay in the theatre anymore. Though she knew that Damon didn't know that Katherine was Elena, it had still made her heartbroken to see them together. _Don't you know me, Damon_, she thought_, or am I not worth looking into?_ She wasn't really angry on him, just confused and tired of all this drama. Home and Jeremy was what she need now.

The apartment was strangely quiet as she unlocked the door. She inhaled the soft smell of dust and sun. "Jeremy?"

No reply.

And all that former angst and anxiety started to come back. She twisted the keys in her fingers, tried not to panic, felt her body go cold. She _hated _the fear. It made her feel sick. It made her feel as if there would be no more fidelity, no more peace.

Then she saw him. He was lying on his back in the middle of the living room, staring up into the ceiling. His chest heaved only with long spaces in-between and his shirt was red. Covered in blood.

"Jeremy?" she asked again. The fear didn't go away. Something was definitely wrong.

Then she saw the red sheets, the empty vial, the knife.

Jeremy turned to look at her. His eyes were dark.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

"Don't you want it back?"

Damon looked at the ring on his finger. It belonged, but it didn't really feel like his either. And the thought of Stefan not being able to go in the sun was strangely sad.

Over the past few days, Stefan had felt like a brother again. Like someone Damon could trust and talk to and confide in. And he had realized, during the fire in the cave, that losing Stefan would hurt. That it would mean loosing his whole family.

"You should have it," Stefan said calmly. He looked at Damon over his desk.

"You're more worth to bear it than I am."

Damon stared at him. Then slowly, slowly – he smiled. It felt as if someone had tied a thousand balloons to the weight inside him and let it rise and disappear. It wasn't all the weight but it was a part and enough to make him feel lighter than he had done for a long, long time.

Stefan folded his hands. "Klaus is still out there, Damon, and Katherine."

"No, not Katherine." He didn't explain but Stefan looked as if he understood.

"Anyway, Klaus is and I think it'll be best for you and Elena to leave."

Damon reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and brought out the two pieces of paper. "These are tickets to South America – Rio de Janeiro - from Le Havre. The cruise ship leaves in a week."

Stefan smiled as if he liked the thought. "South America, huh? Sunny and warm. That's a perfect reason for you to have the ring. And I guess Klaus won't be seen on palm-lined beaches any time soon."

Damon looked down on the tickets. "I can buy one for you too," he mumbled, suddenly painfully aware of that he hadn't thought of Stefan as he had ordered the tickets. And wasn't Stefan the first person Klaus would interrogate when noticing Damon's and Elena's absence?

"Don't!" Stefan cried out with urgency in his voice. He stared intensely at Damon. "Please, don't. I'm fine where I am, thank you."

Damon frowned. There was something hidden behind Stefan's words, but he couldn't decipher it. And besides, he was in a hurry – he needed to tell Elena about the trip. And propose. The little box was still in his pocket, ready for use.

"Take care… brother," Damon said fondly, then left the office to search for Elena.

* * *

He found her sitting in the empty auditorium, staring emptily into space. Her eyes were red and as he sat down next to her, her hands were shaking.

"Elena," he said softly, waiting for a reaction.

Elena just winced. Very slowly did she turn his head and look at him. The pain in her eyes was so wide he wondered if it had an end.

"He made himself…," she whispered, her voice barely carrying. "A vampire."

He had no idea of whom she was talking about, but for some reason her words made him shudder, even though he was a vampire too.

"Jeremy…"

Oh. Her brother. He squirmed. Suddenly the air in the auditorium felt too thick, too warm in his lungs. Even though he couldn't possibly have had to do with Elena's brother turning into a vampire, he still felt guilty, as if he could have in some way altered Jeremy's fate.

But all he could do now was put his arms around her and let her cry. It was all he wanted to do.

"I can't do this," Elena said at last, her voice thick. "It's too much. All the fear and pain.. I'm suffocating from it." And it really seemed as if she had a shortage of breath.

He showed her the tickets to South America. "This is literally our ticket of here. I promise no more fear or pain or vampires except me of course. We'll have our idyll, we'll have our dream white beaches with palms and azure water. And you don't have to feel scared ever more again."

Even though she knew that he couldn't promise anything because it was fate who made the decision whether they should feel happy or not, her eyes lit up and she looked as if a weight had been taken off her, too.

"You think it's possible? This serenity…"

"I just know that I'm going to do everything I can for you to feel happy."

* * *

First, she looked at him with doubt and even a little mistrust. Then, it was as if something melted away.

"Thanks," she said and now there was only warmth in her heart.

She forgave him. What else could she do? Because she couldn't possibly blame him for mistaking Katherine for Elena when it was so clear that he loved her.

He was even ready to go to South America which probably wasn't the most ideal place for a vampire, _for her_. For them both. And though it wouldn't solve all their problems, possibly even give them new ones, it felt good to travel away. It felt like a much-needed new start. It would break Jeremy's heart if Elena left so abruptly, but on the other hand he had broken _her _heart by voluntarily turning himself into a vampire.

They could never make life perfect, she knew that. But they could do the best they could.

* * *

After a performance of _A Midsummer Night's Dream _the audience began to rise from their seats, take their clothes and leave for home.

But Klaus sat where he was, and waited.

He had all the time in the world.

* * *

**And once again I leave you hanging on the edge of a cliff.**

**Now I've finally found the answer to the long time it's taking me to write a chapter: I'm not very good at letting go and unfortunately there are only a few chapters of Let Me Sing A Song For You. Please believe me when I tell you that this is the first _long _story that I've written to the end, and makes me so terribly melancholy for some reason to end it.**

**I'll write new stories, I've already have another Vampire Diaries fanfic planned, but still… never has something given me so much joy in writing as Lmsasfy has. And never would it have happened without the support of you!**

**Music of the day: Fidelity (Regina Spektor)**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**

**P.S Factual error: Theatre de Monroe was supposed to close for New Year's Eve, but I guess they didn't if Klaus watched A Midsummer Night's Dream. I'm sorry. It was simply a too long break between the last chapter and this so I got confused. Right now - in the story - it's the 31st of December, _not _1st January yet.**


	29. MIDNIGHT

**Again, sorry for the delay, but this chapter has been _very _hard to write for some reason. I had to throw a couple of early drafts, and combine a couple of pieces and I really, sincerely hope that the end result is fine.**

**Thank you all who comment and follow, I couldn't have done this without you.**

**And, without further due, I present you:**

**MIDNIGHT**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters)**

New Year's Eve.

Jeremy looked over Paris where he sat on the roof of the house. It glittered subtly of lights in the dark. Early fireworks shot into the sky, exploded in colors. Somehow the sight made him feel even more lonely.

There was nothing to celebrate.

He cautiously peered over the edge of the roof. The ground was far below, a duvet of snow. The death would be quick, soft.

His heart quenched in anguish. What was he doing? What was he thinking? When had he reached the point when suicide seemed to be the way out? Not once during his sickness, not once during neither poverty nor famish, did he think of taking his life.

But now? Now he was developing into a monster.

He had two choices: complete the transformation and _kill _or die like he was but as an innocent soul. He _didn't have _to be a murderer. But there was a part of him, a bloodthirsty, vicious part that wanted to.

And that part sounded louder in his mind.

* * *

Stefan went across the stage to gather Damon's music sheets from the grand piano. They would not be needed anymore.

He felt sad that his brother was leaving, but as long as he and Elena were safe, he felt reassured. And Damon had forgiven him – Stefan's heart was finally at rest. It felt like he had his whole life searched for his elder brother's approval – and he had found it at last. Despite all his mistakes.

But as he headed back to the foyer, he froze.

Klaus.

The ancient vampire approached him loftily like a lion advancing on its prey. He was really in no hurry – he knew that Stefan couldn't outrun him.

"What do you want?" Stefan asked, trying to sound as hostile as possible, even though his stomach had basically frozen over.

Klaus gave him an ice-cold look. Through his calm a fiery rage could be seen.

"Your brother stopped me from going through with the sacrifice by killing Katherine." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "As if that would have stopped me. Look."

And from his pocket he brought out a vial of dark red substance.

Blood.

"I filled it up before her blood went cold. So it's still usable. But there are still pieces missing in this jigsaw. The human doppelganger for example. Isn't she called Elena or something?"

Klaus smiled, then his face became a mask of cruelty again.

"Where are they?"

Stefan shook his head. He took a step back, towards the piano. "I'm not going to tell you that. _Nothing's _going to make me tell you that."

Klaus' eyes glittered in the stage lights as he took yet another step towards Stefan.

"We'll see."

* * *

They stood on the street, waiting for a cab to arrive that would take them to Le Havre.

For once, it was such a soft night. Snow and early fireworks and people with cheeks red with excitement. Elena didn't even freeze in her thin coat; it felt like Damon radiated some new warmth tonight.

It felt cruel to abandon Jeremy so, but she had left him all the money she had earned from working in the theatre and a train-journey ticket to Southampton where their aunt Jenna lived. Hopefully, she would have enough sense to take care of him.

And if things went well in South America, she would come back and help him if he was having a hard time. Even though he had in a way betrayed her by _voluntarily _turning into a vampire. But she forgave him, she would always forgive him, because after all – he was the only brother she had.

"We'll stay in an inn in Le Havre until the departure of the cruise ship," Damon told her, tried to warm her further by taking her hand. "I've paid everything with what I earned from playing the piano, so we'll be fine."

_We'll be fine_. Three simple words that made her feel better than she had in weeks.

If only she had known that the world would come crashing down on her the next minute.

* * *

Jeremy quickly disappeared in the crowd as he moved through Paris. For the first time, the air smelt _good_. The thirst ravaging his throat increased. He knew he wasn't going to be able to stand much longer.

Somehow he ended up standing in front of a small hospital, which was bustling with life. There were surprisingly many wounded and sick during New Year's Eve. Firework-shooting that had gone wrong, pneumonic children, poor infected with lethal diseases.

He stepped inside.

There was a long, marble corridor through which many nurses and doctors rushed. Jeremy saw a nurse with a blood-stained apron. His jaw ached.

He slipped into a ward that was empty of staff and looked around. The people here were so heavily injured and sick they didn't even acknowledge his presence. It was kind of sad to know that they spent the New Year's Eve here suffering.

At the very end of the row of beds, he saw a girl that simply lay motionless and pale in her bed. When he came closer, she didn't stir. Just occasionally did her eye twitch a little. She had bandages all over her body and they were soaked with blood.

He felt his heart beating violently. He couldn't believe what he was doing.

It was as if he stood at the edge of an abyss, looking down into the deep darkness. If he fell, there would no more of this guilt or pain. He could ease his suffering and this girl's as well. Yes, it was the easy way out – but why look for a harder way?

With a jolt he remembered the slaughtered vampires in the tunnel. What was to make of that? Was it evil because the persons killed had been people once upon a time too, or was it good because that way there were a dozen dark creatures less in the world?

There was no one to answer that really.

Carefully he knelt by the head of the bed. The girl didn't react. Her eyes stared unseeing into the ceiling. He put his hand over her bandaged wrist. A pulse was there, but faint. Brittle.

He knew with certainty that there was no hope for her.

Somehow it was easier to then lean over her pearl-white neck. The heat of the blood seemed to strike him in waves.

And, closing his eyes, he struck.

As soon as his teeth punctured the skin, the blood overwhelmed him. First, it tasted like blood should taste; metallic and bittersweet. Then it turned aromatic and soft.

And finally, _finally _the clouds of release came rolling over him. The weight took off. There was no misery or pain or madness anymore.

It was beautiful.

* * *

Damon suddenly froze.

With a knowledge that sometimes graced him, he knew that Stefan was in danger, making the alarm bells in him ring.

He stared aghast at Elena, who stared equally shocked back. There was still fidelity to be seen in her face, calming her expression.

He didn't want to worry her and bring all the woe back, he'd rather let her go on believing that everything was all right, but he'd never forgive himself if anything happened to Stefan that he could've stopped, even if it would crush Elena's hopes of a better future.

"Come!"

He took hold of her hand and ran back into the theatre.

The danger seemed electrify the air, he tried to locate where it came from. His eyes fell on the doors to the auditorium.

Of course. Where else would anything happen?

He stormed in through the doors with Elena behind him.

The sight that welcomed him made him stop entirely. For a moment he just stood there, frozen, wishing it all way, wishing it wasn't true.

Up on the scene he saw Klaus and Stefan. Klaus was standing upright, holding something in his hand, while Stefan lay on the wooden floor. Damon could immediately see he was bleeding.

"Stefan," he cried, and ran to the stage, never letting go of Elena though.

But Klaus stood in their way.

"Hello, Damon," he said almost kindly. His eyes shifted over to Elena. "Hello, Elena. How nice of you to grace us with your presence."

"What did you do to my brother?" Damon growled back.

"I staked him," Klaus replied indifferently, as if speaking of the weather. "With a vervain-laced stake. He's not yet dead, but it's only a matter of time. Once there is too much vervain in his heart, he'll die."

Damon rushed forward, but stopped himself just in time. He realized what Klaus was getting at.

If he helped his brother, Klaus would kill Elena. If he stayed where he was, Elena would be safe, but Stefan would die.

Klaus brought a vial of blood out of his pocket and swung it in front of Damon like a pendulum. "Look here, Salvatore. It's Katherine's blood. Now I only need Elena's and the rest I've already got cleared."

He smiled. "So what's it going to be: saving your brother or protecting the doppelganger?"

Damon looked desperately first at Elena, then at Stefan. He felt like he was being ripped apart.

He would have to choose.

* * *

**And that's a choice I hope no one _never ever _will have to make. Because really, who do you choose? Do you choose family or love?**

**It's impossible to pick one. You'd be heartbroken choosing either.**

**Anyway, so now I'll make it official: there are only two chapters left + Epilogue. No matter how hard it is, sooner or later you have to close the book and move on. I'm just happy I got you guys to support me.**

**Music of the day: To Build A Home (Cinematic Orchestra)**

**Other sad news: Apparently 3 main characters will die in the season finale of TVD and they're not going to come back and Season 3 will be darker and more serious. I don't know what to say truth be told. That someone's going to die makes me sad and I think I will be doing a lot of weeping during the last episode, but I also feel like TVD has taken a more serious, dangerous direction and has evolved into something more than just a teenage vampire drama.**

**Update coming soon to computers near you!**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	30. CATCH A FALLING STAR

**Ah, here we are. The next-to-last chapter. I know, I'm being sentimental. But it's been really hard to write this chapter for some reason. Or actually I know the reason. And you'll find out.**

**Music: Someone like you (Adele)**

**Thank you all who review and follow, you should see me smile when I read your comments.**

**I present you, ladies and gentlemen:**

**CATCH A FALLING STAR**

* * *

**(I own none of the characters, except Santiago)**

"You don't have a choice," Klaus said calmly.

But suddenly Damon knew.

"You're wrong," he said slowly, raised his gaze from the stage floor to Klaus. "There's always a choice."

He felt like he had always known it. It had lain hidden under the surface, and now it appeared. It was beautiful. It wasn't a choice between Elena and Stefan. It was a choice between Elena, Stefan _and him_. And he knew he would always choose himself to die. Because what would life be without love? Like a song without music.

Having the advantage of surprise slowing Klaus down for a second, Damon rushed forwards, ripped the vial of Katherine's blood from his hand and then jumped off the stage in record-speed.

"Help Stefan, Elena! Then run." he called without looking back.

He smiled the last minutes of his life.

* * *

Elena watched Klaus grimace in fury and then the vampire rushed after Damon. She felt an infinite urge to stop him – there was no chance now that Klaus would spare Damon's life.

Her heart was in flames.

It was so bitter that she had actually thought only minutes ago that they'd have a chance at a better life. That no one would have to die, that they could live in prosperity at least for a while.

She had been proven wrong – of course.

The knot in her throat seemed to get harder to swallow for every second that passed.

Then, remembering Damon's last call, she headed towards Stefan.

Even from a distance she could see the amount of blood he had lost, a dark gleaming pool in the stage lights. And as she came closer, she could see the full extent of his wounds. The stake had entered barely an inch from his heart.

When Stefan looked at her she could see only pain like a dark void. They hadn't gotten along in the past, but she didn't want anyone to suffer so.

She tried to rip the stake out of his heart, but he grabbed her wrist. His hold was terribly weak.

Almost angrily she wiped the tears of her face with her sleeve.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just… finish it."

"But Damon…"

"Elena, I can't live like this anymore. At the moment maybe I'm not drinking human blood, but it's inevitable that I'll relapse, we both know that, and I've had enough of killing. I'm ready. Besides, it hurts so."

Slowly Elena wound her fingers around the stake. If she twisted it a little further to the right, the point of the stake would pierce his heart. Kill him.

"Please."

She closed her eyes. Inhaled deeply. If Damon would in any way survive Klaus, he'd be heartbroken. But she also realized that Stefan wanted this.

And she dug the stake deeper into his body, pierced his heart.

Stefan gasped.

Then his skin turned grey, laced with dark veins. His eyes glazed over.

Elena closed them.

She was quiet for a while, then turned to look out over the empty auditorium, her heart filling with worry again. Where were they? Was Damon still alive? For the first time she thought of living on without him. Sure, it would work. Maybe there'd come a time when she'd be happy again. But what she'd felt with Damon she'd never feel again.

It seemed so unfair that just when she had fallen in love she had to be left alone again.

She remembered the raw pain after her parents' death. Why did she have to go through all that again? When there had been sun, she had felt only rain. The flowers had all been withered. All colors had been washed out.

She reached into the pocket of her coat and felt the chimes there, the metal cool against her touch.

No. She would not give up. She'd do everything to prevent Damon from dying.

Fight to the end.

* * *

He rushed into the Golden Room, a lounge for theatre guests where they could sip champagne and meet the actors before and after the show.

It was a dead end.

Klaus purposefully slowly ventured into the room after him. Damon knew he wouldn't die quickly or mercifully. Klaus was like that; it was in his nature to absorb pleasure out of other people's suffering.

"Give me the vial!" Klaus said, barely able to hide the fury from his voice, and stretched out his hand.

Damon thought of what he had done to Stefan.

"Go to hell."

And he dropped the vial.

Not even Klaus could move that fast.

They both watched as the vial fell to the glossy floor and shattered. The blood pooled around the shards.

Somehow it all fit; the golden walls, the ruby blood, the snowy darkness outside. It was even sort of… exquisite. Cruelly beautiful.

The moment Klaus grimaced and bared his teeth, Damon knew he didn't stand a chance. He simply prepared himself for the collision.

It was as if Klaus simply swept forward and back, it was as if he had never even moved.

But Damon felt the air go out of his lungs, looked down. A wooden dagger was launched neatly in his chest. Slowly he felt warmth seep out of the wound.

Yet it seemed that it was still not time for him to die, because suddenly he heard the sound of steps and saw Elena and another man rush into the Golden Room.

Klaus noticed them, but his eyes were fixed on the shattered vial on the floor.

Damon noticed there was something desperate in his eyes.

Then he sighed and turned around to face Elena and –

"Santiago," Klaus greeted stiffly. "It seems like you all are asking to be killed today?"

Damon groaned. He wouldn't be able to keep up much longer. The warmth from the wound had developed into a fire. He tried to rip the dagger out of his heart but it seemed stuck.

Looking up, he met Elena's gaze.

He had never seen her so despaired.

Guilt mingled with the pain. It was his fault that he had dragged her into this, made her suffer.

Then Santiago made a move towards Damon.

Klaus tried to stop him but Santiago waved his hand and the vampire crashed into a mirror close by. Damon looked in wonder; he had never seen one defeat Klaus, even in this little way.

Santiago only had time to hurry forward and pull the dagger out of Damon's chest before Klaus attacked him again. And this time the thousand year-old vampire couldn't be stopped. Damon saw Elena look away when he ripped Santiago's throat with his teeth.

"And now you," Klaus growled, turning to Elena.

But Elena stepped over, suddenly an expression of bravery on her face, and picked up the bloody wooden dagger from the ground.

"I know why you're doing this, Klaus," she said and her voice was brimming with emotion. "Santiago told me. Why you chose to become this way. And why you don't care anymore."

Stakes couldn't hurt Klaus, but Damon saw clearly that Elena's words did.

He wished he could heal so that he could stand up and help her against Klaus, but he was still fettered to the floor by the pain. As he pressed his hand to his chest, the wound bled through his fingers.

When Elena walked over to the spot where Damon had let the vial break, Klaus didn't stop her.

She took a small violet box out of her coat pocket, opened it and turned it upside-down. Something fine-grained, like sand, seeped out of it, covered the blood which colored it red. It took a while for Damon to realize it was ashes.

"I understand," Elena continued, but she wasn't looking at Klaus anymore, but at Damon. "And that's why I'm going to help you." And almost inaudibly, she whispered: "_The things you do for love_. _I'm sorry._"

And suddenly he realized what she was about to do.

She put the dagger to her heart and plunged it right in.

Time froze.

He could only watch as she pulled the dagger out again and let it drop on the ground, right over the bloodstained ashes. Then she took a wobbly step backwards and fell. She landed on the floor absolutely noiselessly.

But she hadn't killed herself for nothing; when the blood of the vampire and the ashes met with the doppelganger blood, something very extraordinary happened.

A bright light filled the Golden Room, brighter than the sun, so white and clear that Damon had to turn away. It made the gold shine stronger on the walls, every color became sharper.

When he could see again the light had reduced to a slender shape that stood in front of Klaus. Its aura radiated a soft orange light.

Klaus' gaze was almost human as he looked at the light.

"Eva?"

The light didn't reply. But something changed in Klaus expression still. While there was something hurt in his eyes, he smiled and it was the first smile of warmth and not of cruelty and cold-heartedness.

Then suddenly the light started to move through the room towards the open doors. As it drew by, every glass shard on the floor sparkled insanely as they would only have done in the sun.

Klaus – like hypnotized – followed after the light. He seemed determined not to lose it now that he had found it.

And just like that he was gone.

Damon didn't hesitate to half-crawl half-stagger to Elena.

She lay on the floor pale and quiet.

Something was missing.

He touched her cheek. It was still warm.

"Elena, please, wake up," he pleaded.

Now he realized what was missing; her heartbeat. He even pressed his fingers against her wrist to be sure. Nothing. No pulse.

"No…, no, no!"

He didn't care that it was too late, he bit open his wrist and pressed it against her lips. The blood flowed and it hurt but he didn't care – he just wanted to her survive this. Please let her survive this.

She didn't though.

When it finally dawned on him, the little fact that it was too late and there was nothing more he could do, it was as if an abyss opened up and swallowed him.

Gently he scooped her up in his arms. She was still warm but he felt himself getting colder for every minute that passed.

In a kind of trance he walked with her – despite his still wounded chest – out of the Golden Room, down the stairs, through the foyer and out into midnight Paris.

The streets were empty, the night satin black with snow like white moths.

It was a minute to midnight now.

He continued walking and as slowly his strength returned to him, he began to run until there were no more houses, no more people, just night and snow.

Just a couple of seconds now.

10

Beneath an ancient oak he sat down with Elena.

9

The wind whipped around him and sent flurries over him, covered him and Elena.

8

He didn't want to ever let go, but the hand he was holding had already lost its warmth.

7

Somewhere out there in the dark, a wolf howled.

6

Damon looked down on her one last time. Snowflakes had settled in her hair like pearls. She was beautiful.

5

He kissed her frozen lips, whispered: "Thank you." Because after all, he couldn't complain at all. He'd been given the most meaningful week in his life. Most people didn't even get that.

4

But it was hard to say goodbye.

3

Tenderly he put her down on the duvet of snow. Released his grip on her, no matter how hard it was.

2

Then he turned and sped through the night. He just wanted to leave.

1

There was a blend of explosions as the inhabitants of Paris shot fireworks into the sky.

0

Midnight was over.

* * *

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	31. LET ME SING A SONG FOR YOU

**Ah, here is the last chapter that I know I've delayed for more than a week, so I'm so sorry. Again, it was because I actually didn't want this story to end, 'cause ending a project, even if peacefully like this, is like giving away something you have held dear for months.**

**Anyway, thank you for waiting, thank you for commenting and following. It's so incredibly nice to have a reason to write for.**

**So, ladies and gentlemen, I present you for the last time:**

**LET ME SING A SONG FOR YOU**

* * *

**(Disclaimer: I own none of the characters)**

A week later:

Le Havre stretched out before him, January-grey and dark. The sea was a mass of broken waves, also grey.

The only colorful thing was the cruise ship to South America, a new steamboat lit up with rainbow-colored lanterns. There was a banner too, with "Rio de Janeiro" standing in Bold Italic letters on it.

Damon sat a small distance away from the boat, on a bench that was threatening to break beneath him. His gaze rested on the lanterns, but he failed to see the colors.

A week had gone since the event in the Golden Room, since Klaus' decision to run after a light, since Stefan's death, since Elena's, but his mind was still there. He couldn't stop wondering what he could have changed, what he could have done better to prevent Elena from dying. Guilt was tightly laced with the deep sorrow he felt. If it was his fault that he Elena died…

And then Stefan. Damon remember how he had later found his brother on the stage floor, his skin grey, his eyes glossy and staring, a stake in his heart. Damon had felt like he was the one who had been staked in the heart, and the feeling still carried.

Why did his brother have to die? Why Elena? No matter how he twisted or turned it, he failed to understand. _He _was the one who had sinned, who had killed two innocent girls, but why did the persons he loved have to be punished for _his _crimes?

There wasn't any greater injustice.

Damon looked to his side. The empty place there should have been filled by Elena. She should have sat there with him, looking out over the Atlantic, talking about how lovely it would be in Rio. She shouldn't have died. She was so young, she still had a life ahead of her, lots and lots of empty pages that had to be filled. The story couldn't end so abruptly, so cruelly.

And Stefan; Damon had lost the only brother he had ever had. The only family he had left.

His heart felt so leaden in his chest, the grief so dark.

He twisted Stefan's ring on his finger.

It would be so easy; just pull it off and the few rays of sunlight that broke through the clouds would fall on him and he'd be engulfed in flames. It would hurt at first, then it'd feel peaceful. He'd be free. And he was almost sure he'd see Elena and Stefan on the other side. How he longed for them.

But doing that would be so unfair towards both Elena and Stefan. He was obliged to live the lives they had lost, live _for them_, because they couldn't anymore.

Elena would have wanted that. After all, it was what she had died for.

Damon closed his eyes, tried to somehow make the pain go away.

He'd live for her.

50 years later:

Palms swayed in the light sea breeze. The sky was perfectly blue, not a cloud to be seen, just like the sea. There was no noise but the sound of waves crashing on the beach.

It was all so beautiful.

Damon looked around. In this idyll, he was alone. Not a soul for miles about.

Perfect.

He felt so tired. And it was finally time. He smiled. He could almost feel Elena's presence again. Her warmth and the love she had radiated for him.

He had lived for her and now it was over. Soon death would never more hinder them. Soon he'd be reunited with his brother. Maybe even his mother… and who knew?, maybe there would be pianos in heaven or wherever he would come.

He rose from the rock he had been sitting on, went to the water's edge until the waves could touch his bare feet.

And taking one last breath, he pulled off the ring.

Tossed it into the sea right before he began to burn.

Flames danced over his skin. The heat was insane, it hurt… and then suddenly, it was over.

A great feeling of airlessness came over him. Gravity did no longer bound him to the ground.

The image of palms and sand and beach turned to darkness.

He waited.

And at once, in the darkness he saw pinpoints of light. They grew stronger and stronger until he could see that they were lanterns. Rainbow-colored lanterns.

There was something more, too. Someone holding these lanterns. A great ease rolled over Damon.

It was Stefan.

"Hello, brother!" Stefan greeted him. "It's been long…"

Damon felt like he would break apart in happiness. Finally. How he had waited for this day.

Then, the best thing happened.

Another set of lanterns appeared, and this time he knew who would come.

"Damon!" Elena said softly, her eyes expressing the longing, love, sadness and happiness that he felt. "I've missed you!"

She let him wind his arms around her.

"And you can't even begin to realize how much I've missed _you_…"

When they had stood so for a while, they finally parted and looked at each other. Damon didn't let go of her hand though. Nothing would make him let go.

"Tell me, Elena, is there only darkness here?"

Elena shook her head and exchanged smiles with Stefan.

"No, this is some sort of welcome hall. The place where we're at, it's wonderful. Oh, and there's a piano, Damon."

They began to move forwards. And indeed, Damon began to see a faint faraway light.

"Then I don't need anything else. I'll play a song –"

"And I'll sing it."

* * *

**Music: Skinny Love (Birdie) I know it's the song they played in TVD after the death of a beloved character and that's exactly why I chose it. It's beautiful.**

**There will be an Author's Note and Epilogue right after this, but it's stuff that's actually quite unnecessary so don't feel obliged to read it, but it would be fun anyway, so...**

**Goodbye and good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	32. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**I just wanted to thank again for all those who have supported me during the writing. Seeing as this is my first fanfiction and my first long story that I've written to the end, I couldn't have been more grateful.**

**I really love TVD and how they portray Damon, Elena and Stefan but I felt like Damon and Elena needed a simpler, sweeter love story than the complicated love-hate relationship they have now, that was how Let Me Sing A Song For You grew out of it's seed and became a tree. The setting in 1920 is also relevant, I felt like that and the 19th Century was an era of love. There was simply more time for romance. Sure, true love was as rare as it is now, and many relationships were unhappy, but many beautiful things grew out of this time, and that's why it's called the era of Romanticism (all right, I'll admit – that was more like the last half of the 19th century, but I still think the first 20 years of the 20th century can be counted in, or not, I don't know)**

**Anyway, did you know there is a movie called _The Sensation of Sight _in which both Ian Somerhalder and Daniel Gilies star? It's an indie move, very emotional, so be sure to check it out now that you don't have my story to bother you anymore.**

**Lastly – THANK YOU again and good luck on _your _stories. Keep on writing, if that's what you love. Don't be scared to let other people read, don't be scared to think big and bright and beautiful. Remember – your life is _your _book and you can write anything into it.**

**Goodbye,**

**CheeseSwiss**


	33. EPILOGUE

**EPILOGUE:**

* * *

**(Disclaimer: I own none of the characters)**

Jeremy lay under a huge orange moon and on top of a hill.

Sea winds drifted to him and cooled his already cold skin. He realized he was at peace here. No more drama or death or murder. He felt blood-thirst boiling under his skin, but it was something he had learned to quench. After the girl in the hospital he had decided to not become a murderer. It wasn't worth it.

He had found a sanctuary in the green hills of southern England. Here on the country side there was a quiet that didn't exist anywhere else.

He smiled as he understood that from now on, everything would be all right.

* * *

**Goodbye and Good luck,**

**CheeseSwiss**


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